He leads where all men should fear to tread

Where only cattle and sheep have gone before,

He takes us through the deepest nettlebed

Where midges, flies and wasps do soar.

 

The Ribble muds and mires he knows as home

He hops and sails over every tussock,

No catching him stuck in any soft deep loam

Or sinking down right over his fetlock.

 

He steers us by stile and gate

Through noxious yards and pungent byres,

By foul marsh and slurry pit

Past heaps of manure covered by old tyres.

 

No matter where he goes over fields and fells

He’ll stop and camp with country yokels,

Invariably finding out he is distantly related

Then from the gab it is hard for him to be extricated.

 

Seek out the hidden ginnels and gulleys

Explore affectionately with our old Airey,

Never mind the fact that you may need wellies

Or that the sign “beware of the bull” is rather scary.

 

He always wears a sunny hat and cheeky grin

And reckons he’s lost on the slightest whim,

But with a shake of the wrist and a compass point

He’ll get out of a jam and on to the next joint.

 

Just go with the flow and walk though field and farm

Stick to it through thick and thin,

He’ll not let you down or come to harm

Just put trust in our good old Jim.