On Tick Fen - Warboys

Our fathers father worked this land and his fathers father too;


We're farmers drainers countrymen and Fenmen through and through;

We've fought the Romans and the Danes and the French men many times,

We've battled against the elements to quell Crowland abbeys chimes. ( ref - Danger Bell )

We've mastered wind and rain, we've controlled the floods and tides,

Tempests storms and cyclones, and snow and ice besides;

We've moulded this flat land into to what it is today,

A jewel in the farming world to everyone's dismay.



A Poem by Rex Sly

[www.rexslyinthefens.com/contact.html]   Keep it Analogue

16 Foot Drain

You walk the roof of the world here.


Only the clouds are higher

And they are not permanent.

Trees are too distant for the wind to reach

And mountains hide below the horizon.

The wind labours through reed

As though they were the final barrier.

Houses and farms cling like crustations

To the black hull of the earth.

Here, you must walk with yourself,

Or share the spirits of forgotten ages



Edward Storey [www.literarynorfolk.co.uk/fens.htm]   Keep It Analogue