A word or two from Neddy

I feel must now be said,

A fellow always ready to go or do

Just as he's bid.

I hear some think this Forest

Isn't here for me

To carry her I love the best

'Neath gently shading tree.

I hear it's not horse country

And never has it been

And horses are just for the gentry

We don't belong in this Forest scene.

It's a thought that has been puzzling me

And her I love the best

As we pass beneath the shading tree,

Cast our eyes to East and West.

For beneath the hill that towers o'er

The woods so dense and green,

Horses laboured with men underground

In the darkness, all unseen.

And twixt the trees that reach so high

To stroke the sweeping Forest sky

Horses hauled timber for pit props to cut

And trudged Forest tracks over each

Rick and ruts.

Horses ploughed the farmer's field

We hauled the coalman's cart

We helped bring in the harvest yield

With mighty strength and willing heart.

We pulled the milkfloat, delivered the bread

We drew the hearse that bore the dead

We carried out masters on roads and tracks

This Forest survived on our broad backs

Doctors we bore to aid the sick

Took hay to the sheep in snow deep and thick.

We were here in the morning of God's curious plan

We'll be here in evening of this world of man.

And these days of leisure and rest

I step out so proudly for her

I love best

I follow the trails ancient and still

Through deep delving valley,

Over high climbing hill.

Not a place for horses, and never has been?

If you could have been there,

If you could have seen

Perhaps you'd agree when you put it to test

There's room here for me

And for her I love best.

– K.A. Wozencroft.