You ask me who you are
And where do you come from
You ask me please to tell you
Where do you belong
~
The threads of all the lives we led
Will help you understand
The strings that tie
and hold us forever to this land
~
Through the pain of labour
The boy child that you bore
Did he live to draw the bow
On the field of Agincourt?
~
Did you walk beside me
Along the Pilgrims Way
Footsore tired and weary
On that far off summers day?
~
Breasting the hill at Harbledown
To see Canterbury’s sunlit spires
Tasting the tang of wood smoke
From the charcoal burners fires
~
When you fell in love with Mary
Did I marry Abigail
And did we leave them grieving
In the mud of Passendale?
~
For our genes are joined and tangled
In the roots of every tree
Which bind this earth together
To make a home for you and me
*
*
*

Battle of Passendale World War 1. Rain and shellfire turned the mud into a quicksand; thousands of British soldiers were killed there.