NAMMET TIME (Circa 1890)

Posted by Admin on Thursday, 25th May 2006, 00:00

’Tis nammet time, the reapers rest
protected by the hawthorn’s shade
while cloud formations in the West
warn harvesting can’t be delayed.

Jugs of beer with bread and cheese –
a boon to throats now desert dry –
the homebrew often by degrees
inviting them in sleep to lie.

For they arose ere dawn broke through,
the Ten Acre to start at seven,
to earn an extra ‘bob’ or two,
for them like manna sent from heaven.

For they must toil lest women weep,
their many children, starving, die
so wielding sword-sharp blades they reap,
to aching backs respite deny.

Small wonder when the thatched ricks stand
on capped stones near the ancient byre,
the voices of that stalwart band
resound above the village choir.

T. C. Hudson

© T. C. Hudson.
This work may not be reproduced without prior permission of the author.

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