Sunday, December 27, 2009

A detectorists poem

Added To The World Metal Detector Community By David Lascelles

Have you ever waited for a field that's baked rock-hard for weeks
And prayed with all your heart for gentle rain.
The next time that you see it, its mud up to your cheeks
And when that's dry, it's seeded once again.

Or, with anticipation, you've looked forward to a site
And drooled about the "goodies" it might yield
To be told before you search it that it really isn't right
'Cos the farmers gone and sold the bloody field.

There's every kind of Gremlin (just when you don't need any)
Like wind and pouring rain, and snow and sleet
And sites which have no cover when you have to "spend a penny"
Or wellies that are split and wet our feet.

There's silver paper, ring pulls, and blobs of lead to boot
And cartridge ends galore - that's far from funny.
Yes every coin is George 111, and all as rough as soot
And buttons which look just like silver money.

You'd think with all this bitching that we'd all bear a grudge
About the things we have or have not found,
But, it's true dedication, with backsides caked in sludge,
Recovering our history from the ground.

It won't always be "Treasure" - there'll be days devoid of "goodies"
Yet the chance of decent finds is always there
But, being there's a pleasure, to seach alongside buddies
Enjoying spacious fields and country air.

So, when the Harvest's over and "Bonanza Time" approaches
You anticipate the things that you may find
Remember - there's a field out there that's strewn with roman brooches
And jewelled strapends Saxons left behind.

There's a Bronze Age patterned Axe Head where they have grown potatoes,
That hammered silver's never very deep.
And where that Celtic shrine was, the ground is full of Staters
You know, those things we see when we're asleep.

So remember on the field edge before youu make a start
To search for several hours in perfect bliss
That win or lose you're out there, be glad to be a part
Of the truly greatest hobby that there is.

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