The Road to Sweffling

To Felixstowe Ferry we race

On the way we see Foxhall

Cobbold Road has a lovely surface

A mute swan has a noisy call

At Hollesley we divert on a mission

Jeffrey Archer’s home one long year

I wonder which modern politician 

We’d most like to accommodate here

At Orford the castle and quay 

Across from a wartime addition

Where they sought to find the key

To nuclear warhead ignition

I’m thinking of Tina at Iken

A quaint little church by the Alde

Then onto Snape Maltings for luncheon 

There’s clearly no wizardry involved 

David’s map reading is quite unsettling 

And I am getting rather dishevelled 

I ask his opinion of Sweffling

He replies that he’s never sweffled

We’re looking out for the White Horse

It’s close to our digs near here

We spot one right on our course

But it’s trotting and not selling beer.

Lowestoft