I found this beautiful piece of writing yesterday. It says it is by a person named Mike Barber. Would any of you know if there is a recorded version of this somewhere for sale?
The Guist Ploughman
Grandfather was a teamsman true and bold
Loved his horses more than gold
He would tend them night and day
For the sake of the harvest he would say
One for the rook, one for the crow
One to die and one to grow
One for the rook, one for the crow
One to die and one to grow
When Martinmas comes the year turns round
Time to till the stubbled ground
He could plough an acre in a day
But he'd walk eleven miles and say ....
You can see the rest of it here.
Sláinte!
Laurel
3 comments:
Especially love the 'chorus' :)
Ain't it just luverly? :)
I have also fallen in love with this song. I got it from a CD by Craig Morgan Robson: Hummingbird's Feather. I've sung it with a friend at our local folk club. As you say, the chorus is great, nice for people to join in.
Post a Comment