The Ballad of Bosworth Field
The following poem was written many years ago by myself and younger brother Stephen, It seems appropriate to make it public for the first time in light of the tremndous work carried out by Leicester University in their search for Richard III
The Ballad of Bosworth Field by Patricia and Stephen Jones
Now Henry ap Tyder ( a Weslshman was he)
with the aid of Duke Francis, came over the sea.
He landed at Milford Haven, in Wales,
bringing with him an army (from out the French gaols).
Tudor marched in England, steeped in treachery,
and took his French army to Sutton Cheyney..
Then out of Leicester a great host came forth,
It was led by King Richard - The Pride of the North.
From the top of the hill where King Richard looked down,
the sun striking golden from his battle crown,
He spurred his white charger, sped into the fray,
his one only thought, Henry Tudor to slay.
Then across Bosworth Meadow a clarion shrilled,
it spoke of disaster, loyal Norfolk was killed.
Then from the side-lines both Stanley's came,
midst treason and treachery brave Richard was slain.
Oh Tudor, oh Stanley, oh look what you've done!
Tho all noted cowards, you've killed Yorks best son.
Though all over England the Tudor did Reign,
twas only through treason, dishonour and shame!