The Snoring VillagesLittle & Great Snoring in Norfolk, England

Oh Little Church
How peaceful a countryside summer scene
The unseen skylark sings on the wing
The yellows and greens gleam
But how very different
It all has been.

The clang and clatter from the dispersal
The Naffi wagon dispensing its cheer
The clash of the fuel bowser’s gears
Now in their place only the sight and sound
Of the John Deere.

In those now far off troubled days of battle
How your flint tower trembled and windows rattled
To the roar of the mighty Merlins on test
As Erks strived to entice from their charges
The very best.

And over there in one of those Maycrete sheds
The crews gathered smoking and joking
All to conceal their dread
Of Ops that were to come
That would be the end for some.

And Little Church
How the station your services sought
To sing hymns or offer a prayer in the silence of thought
In your place where generations of Norfolk folk have tread
As once more they gathered
To honour their dead.

Oh Little Church
How well you have survived
Not so for the many that were once here
As memories and people fade with the passing years
It’s difficult not to look back
Think of them
And shed a few tears.