Corn was gathered and stored in the barn nearby,
Where now Mill Row Cottages stand serene.
Once children gleaned the fallen grains of wheat,
As behind the plough, the crop they reaped.

Two centuries ago, o'er rocks the waters surged
And raced round the bend, the giant wheel to work.
A dozen children played round the miller's home,
In this village so many, many years ago.

For fifty years, it lay idle and beyond repair,
Only some cogs and wheels left, its tale to share,
Of a once proud and busy past, now long forgot,
Yet village life goes on -
It still may play a part.

The shop is the village meeting place,
Go for a loaf or a new shoe-lace!
You will find there is always time for a jest,
You will probably meet the newest "guest".
Fetch your pension! Hear the news too!
"Is that right? Can that really be true?"

Without the shop we'd have no heart,
With our Post Office, we must never part!
Long live Andrea and Derek too,
Our need of you will be long, it's true!
Boughrood Post Office and shop is the best,
To shop, get your pension or just have a rest!