DRONE-FIELD
I love this little market town,
Of Dronfield on the drone.
With its quaint old wooden bridge,
And cottages built of stone.
The proud St. John the Baptist Church,
Stands near the railway station.
It’s stood there for nine hundred years
A majestic and wonderful creation.
Opposite the Church there stands,
A public house the Old Green Dragon.
Where many of our ancestors,
Would meet and drink from a flagon.
There’s past memories on Church Street,
High Street and Farwater lane.
The Old Manor House that’s weathered,
With years of hot summers and winter rain.
These are places that I love,
In my old Dronfield town I call home.
The lovely little market town,
Upon the river Drone.
By
Alfred Weston
© Copyright Reserved 2003
I love this little market town,
Of Dronfield on the drone.
With its quaint old wooden bridge,
And cottages built of stone.
The proud St. John the Baptist Church,
Stands near the railway station.
It’s stood there for nine hundred years
A majestic and wonderful creation.
Opposite the Church there stands,
A public house the Old Green Dragon.
Where many of our ancestors,
Would meet and drink from a flagon.
There’s past memories on Church Street,
High Street and Farwater lane.
The Old Manor House that’s weathered,
With years of hot summers and winter rain.
These are places that I love,
In my old Dronfield town I call home.
The lovely little market town,
Upon the river Drone.
By
Alfred Weston
© Copyright Reserved 2003
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