Hi Arthur,
I'm enjoying reading this sequence.
What I really like is the way the words and their rhythms work in the lines
you're using. I often get weary of dialect poems that tum-to-dum along in
hymn stanzas but you're style feels energetic, as lively as the stories
you're telling.
Bob
>From: Arthur Seeley <[log in to unmask]>
>Reply-To: The Pennine Poetry Works <[log in to unmask]>
>To: [log in to unmask]
>Subject: New Sub:Th' and o' God
>Date: Wed, 20 Oct 2004 09:58:57 +0100
>
> Tales at my Mother's knee No. 2: Th'and of God
>
>
>
>Thi granddad had a milk round in t'village.
>
>He delivered for a farmer,
>
>though it were for nowt on a wage
>
>but he got a few eggs, free milk
>
>and some odds and sods of vegitubles
>
>thrown in like.
>
>He had an 'oss and a milk cart
>
>and he were off early ivry mornin' at cock- shout..
>
>There weren't much else work around then
>
>what wi' t'times an all
>
>so thi granddad wuh glad of what little brass it paid
>
>
>
>He used to tell us t' tale as how one mornin'
>
>he were fillin' a jug at one house,
>
>when he heard from next door this owd man prayin',
>
>knelt down on t 'cold stone kitchin floor
>
>" Send mi food, I beg thi Lord. "
>
>he were praisin' and prayin' like billy-o.
>
>Thi granddad, he weren't no church man,
>
>nor chapel nawther an' he laughed to hissen
>
>but then had a sudden thowt.
>
>Thi grandma were bakin' that day
>
>and he figgered he'd hev a bit of a lark.
>
>
>
>He hadn't far to go to get back home,
>
> "Sithee, gi' me that cob, look sharp!"
>
> He took a loaf from where it were coolin' on't table
>
>and dashed back to t'owd man in his kitchin.
>
>He were still down there praying,
>
>so he slipped t' loaf on t'table, quiet as a mouse
>
>then stood back and waited.
>
>
>
>T' smell of t'bread must have getten to t' owd man
>
>cause he looked up with a bit of a start.
>
>"Oh! Thank you, Lord. You've answered my prayer"
>
>"Nowt a t'sort, thi silly owd loon!" thi granddad scoffed,
>
>"Ah browt thi that bread, aye, an' yon milk too."
>
>"Ah! Tha might ev brung it, lad, and no one else,
>
>but it t'were t' Lord that put thowt i' thi head."
>
>
>
>Later, thi grandad told t'tale to thi grandmother and me,
>
>as she rocked beside t' fire that neet, "Silly owd sod!
>
>Duh yuh hear 'im?" he scoffed, "T' Lord 'ed putten it in mi head."
>
>Thi grandma rocked and stroked her pinny, quiet like.
>
> "Aye, well, an 'appen he did, if truth bi known," she said.
>
>
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