My father comes from a farming family in the Forest of Dean, Glos, near the Welsh border. After his retirement, he and my mother went to live in an old tithe barn on the family land, which they had converted into a house. They also converted a second barn, Rookery Barn, as a holiday let. Here are two versions of the poem (one rhyming, one not) I wrote for them and some of the family history.

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