For a townee like me the land is just soil,
Don't neeed a map, got me GPS,
(Hold on the tea's on the boil)
All views are fine from Kent to Inverness.
Pie in the sky if you think I'll vote Labour,
The Cons just break wind, and the Libs hit the dirt;
Best thing I like is a day at the turf, leave in an hour,
With wife, dog (Lone Ranger) , for what it's worth;
Go once a year and make a small pot,
Sounds corny, but underneath a good strophe.
Winter is boring but summer we like a lot,
Got 5 acres of land waiting for the plough;
So don't talk to me about weather and strife,
Go get a life or my name's Mack the Knife.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem