Timber Corps Foresters Poem
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FORESTER'S 
They’re tramping through the forest
They’re brushing past the undergrowth
They have but one desire

They’re greatest thought, their highest aim,

To see in Britain, Peace again
They have no tanks or rifles,
They have no stripes or drill,
They have no ships or aero planes
But Britain needs them still,
They’re fighting hard with axe and saw
They’re Britain’s ‘Women’s Timber Corps’.
They’re proud of their profession,
Bad weather does not count;
They bring the tall trees crashing down
The piles of pit props mount,
They’re doing their bit to win the war
This almost unknown ‘Timber Corps’

by   J. I. Melvin                
                      

              Another poem
Timber Corps Poem
The Other Way

"Lumberjills" of Scotland

THE OTHER WAY

 There is a land, or so I’m told,
Where timber girls ne’er feel the cold,
Where trees come down all sned and peeled,
And there’s no need an axe to wield.

The transport’s never broken down,
And Jill's go every night to town.
How different here in snow and sleet,
Shivering with wet and frozen feet.
But wait, the sun’s come out at last,
And summer’s here and winter’s past,
The lumberjills work all the day -
Who’d have it round that other way?

 By Hilton Wood                

 
 
 

 

Copyright © R. Elder May 2007

    

In Scotland, "You can still hear the wind whispering in the trees"