Poem - Blankney Woodyard

Today's poem is entitled Blankney Woodyard. The Woodyard, as it's name implies, is where timber from the Estate is taken to be sawn. It also houses the maintenance workshops for maintaining the buildings on the Estate, both farm buildings and the many private houses.

Blankney Woodyard

The tractor chimney belches smoke
The trailer hauls it's heavy load
Another trunk of light grey ash
Is dragged along the Woodyard road
For centuries past this great Estate
Has yielded wood for fence and gate
The saw shed, like a torture chamber
Where fearful jagged teeth of saw
Rip to pieces once proud trees
To make a window frame or door
Whilst the wood that's less discerning
Is used to keep the log fires burning
Nearby, the busy joiners shop
Where glue and sawdust smells prevail
And craftsmen ply their ancient trade
On wood secured by screw and nail
And gates by wintry weather tainted
Stand there waiting to be painted
Over by the paddock hedge
Heaps of sand and gravel wait
To be transformed into cement
By the builder and his mate
May their skill with stone and slate
Long preserve this great Estate

Rodney Garlant