Every so often, I get an email from someone who has encountered one of my poems on the 'net and who has been trying to find its provenance. These people think the pieces are "old", you see.  The one that attracts the most queries is called Following the Drum. It's in my collection Long Ago Love Songs.

Following the Drum

Oh, once I slept in a feather bed

With woollen blankets warm

Now I’m glad to lay my head

On a cloak that’s old and torn

Oh, sing with me a merry catch

As summer days will come

My love he is a soldier boy

And so I’m following the drum

With a patter patter tat

And a rattle and a scrap

And the beat of the marching song

I’m ragged and worn

And my hose are torn-

Yet I am following along

Oh once I ate from a silver plate

With sauces rich and rare

Now I’m glad if I’m not too late

To find some bread to share

Oh sup with me on a scraggy fowl

And dream of sugar plums

My love he is a soldier boy

And so I’m following the drum

With a patter patter tat

And a rattle and a scrap

And the beat of the marching song

I’m ragged and worn

And my hose are torn-

Yet I am following along