The Poetry Corner

In Somerset

By Fay Inchfawn

In Somerset they guide the plough From early dawn till twilight now. The good red earth smells sweeter yet, Behind the plough, in Somerset. The celandines round last year's mow Blaze out . . . and with his old-time vow The South Wind woos the Violet, In Somerset. Then, every brimming dyke and trough Is laughing wide with ripples now, And oh, 'tis easy to forget That wintry winds can sigh and sough, When thrushes chant on every bough In Somerset!