Here you will find the Poem The Farmer remembers the Somme of poet Vance Palmer
Will they never fade or pass! The mud, and the misty figures endlessly coming In file through the foul morass, And the grey flood-water ripping the reeds and grass, And the steel wings drumming. The hills are bright in the sun: There's nothing changed or marred in the well-known places; When work for the day is done There's talk, and quiet laughter, and gleams of fun On the old folks' faces. I have returned to these: The farm, and the kindly Bush, and the young calves lowing; But all that my mind sees Is a quaking bog in a mist - stark, snapped trees, And the dark Somme flowing.