I all'us visitid , set'day.

Fot do shopp'in for mi gron.

Platt waz wuz a lung way for chider.

On't trolly buz , from bird ith ond.

It seemed a lung way in them days.

When thar abeawt nine , er ten.

But two an a tanner wuz too much fot miss.

Tha could buy awsoats for thripp'nce back then.

Neaw I coud'nt abide peylin praytus.

As a chilt , it fair geet mi deawn.

But mi fayther , he said I at do it.

If I wa'ntid fot get orf a creawn.

Sumtimes ad stop theer ore neet.

It were beltin, come time fot gut bed.

Wid clamber upstairs wi a candle.

Which flickered on faythers bawd yed.

Wid aw av a pee in'tert jerry.

Wich was quickly shoved back under't bed.

Tha could smell it in't neet if tha wack'nd.

But nothin abeawt it was said.

Wid lie theer wit candle a flickrin.

Makin shadows un shapes aw oat war.

Un wid play at tryin't find faces.

On't damp patches that we aw saw.

When time come fot bi goo'in.

Mi gron said.. " joe , trait that lad ".

But mi fayther he all'us at plague mi.

Which used get mi gronmother mad.

He'd sit on a cheer , wi his back fac'int fire.

His braces were danglin ter't floo'er.

He'd say.. " jeffries , come poo mi finger.

Then fart un I'd run eawt er't doo'er.

He'd give me the money , I'd kiss im on't yed.

Mi gronmother see'd mi ter't doo'er.

I'd kiss her on't cheek , her'd give mi a hug.

I'd say.. " thanks , un I'll see yo some moo'er

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Copyright © 1998 Jeff Unsworth

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