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Stan CollierStan Collier worked on priddle farm when hours were long and men grow strong in higher barnsleys woods and leas where he milked the cows for you and me that cottage close to wooded lanes that twist and turned to wind yon frames where zunner boys did run the lanes fishing and playing childhoods games the dogs did bark and mice did hide the rivers twisted through countryside where cars rare rode the country lane where church bells rangs to horses manes here dogs gave chase in packs of ten to hunt the fox to please squires men where priddles farm was rich in lore where Stan Collier worked and planted all here cocks did crow and boys did boast of girls they chased and loved the most where wimborne bridge did ride the stour as a child i holidayed there for many an hour where maket town each thursday noon we gathered to seek fun and silver spoons where heifers sold and pigs did snort where farmers sold and home did brought their spoils of days not long ago when farmers put on a wondrous country show Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem
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