Th’owd

Rocking Cheer

It were nobbut a chair, owd an’

worn

yet some’ow it stayed on its

feet,

prob’ly fashioned afore ‘or wor

born

still, it woh polished an’ neat.

Owd an’ worn an’ ‘ad its day

just an unwanted rockin’ cheer,

but a wondered just wot it

could seh

an’ haah mony ‘ad rested theer.   

Haah mony friends rocked ta

sleep?

Haah mony childer ‘ad it

soothed?

Naah liggin on a junk-dealers

‘eap

after all t’ troubles it’s

smoothed.

Aaht o’ date, unwanted an’ owd,

that shunt be good servants’ pay

-tha’s ta mony finish tha days

int’ cowd

cus thin getten in somedy’s way.

It’s nahce ta know tha’s adled

a rest

amangst all t’friends thas made.

It’s nahce ta know tha’s done

thi best

Cus true friendships nivver

fade.

Yet wi’ dignity it stood theer,

Waiting ta shed its load;

Just an owd, friendly rocking

cheer

 O’must at th’end o’t’

road.

Autumn

When the summer show has ended,

when the beauty starts to fade,

comes the golden glory of autumn

   filling every tree

and glade.

See the colours changing from

the russets to the gold

as this treasure house of

autumn,

her wonders doth unfold.

See nature’s little creatures,

hear them how they sing,

storing for the winter months

the gifts that autumn brings.

Hear the song of the rippling

stream,

louder than before,

telling of the promise

 that winter has in store.

The artist with his brushes,

master though he be,

can only put on canvas,

what his eyes can see.

Man ever tries to copy,

so this autumn he can hold

yet when compared beside these

autumn joys,

are dross compared with gold.

   Th’owd Weaver

Om nobbut a weyver, owd an’

poor an’ mi warp it’s o’must done,

monny’s a torms ov bin on

t’floor, yet ov ‘ad mi share o’ fun.

The’s nobbut a string or two

left, oss nooan bi long off a daahnd,

beeting will do, sooa will

t’werf; of just torm ta look raahnd.

The’s been torms mi warp wun’t

gooa, torms mi bobbin’s gate sluffed,

torms mi jacks were all over t’

floor, but nubdy can say “’e duffed “.

Ta look at young-uns just

starting, takes me back a long way,

when me and mi father were

parting and these words ‘e ‘ad to say:-

“Keep thi warp straight, and

t’boxes clean, it’ll go down better tha’ll find

-when tha feels lork letting

off steam, get this fixed in thi mind.

Don’t let work get thi down,

lad, it’s summat tha can’t do baaht

mony a torm thi warp’ll run bad

and tha’ll get mony a clout.”

‘is words of allus kept in mi

yed, ov nivver been flayed o’ wark.

Mi best of done, lork ‘e said,

yet neer made mich of a mark.

Still, I look t’best straight

in th’een for I don’t owe nubdy owt,

though what I’ve done and where

of been, just abaat adds up to nowt.

An when or tay mi piece

through, om sure the’s nowt mich wrang

‘appen thi’ll fornd a float o’

two an slack wheer or fergate mi stang..

But t’master knows of adled mi

pay, if mi piece isn’t one at best

An’ when he sees mi, ‘appen

e’ll say “Come in lad, tha’s addled a rest”.

Leeaving-t-taahn

Come in lad, come in, sit thi

daahn, what’s this av yerd abaat thee?

They say tha’s leavin’ this

little taahn, 

Soos come in lad and listen ta

me.

What ov ta say wint tay sa long

and thi modern ideas thee’ll keep,

a know tha feels lorke singing

a song

an’ wishin’ in t’ future ta

peep.

Naah when tha leaves this taahn

lad, don’t bother thi yed abaht brass,

it nobbut makes good in ta bad,

it’s guts not brass at shews

class.

All mi lorf av been called

“poor” an’ allus classed as nowt,

yet plenty can’t put a foot on

t’ floor,

brass soos dearly thiv bowt.

For wealth, lad, thiv swaped

good ‘ealth, neer ‘ad na time ter be young,

allus chasing and loading wealth

and keeping a check on the

tongue.

Yet or possess summat gold

can’t buy -plenty would travel t’world ta fornd,

brass thid give, and go through

hells fore

if thi could get a contented

mornd.

Sometimes tha’ll think nowt’s

worth while, aah, tarms tha’ll feel fairly sluffed.

Sometimes tha’ll fornd it it

hard to smile

but nivver let ‘em say tha

duffed.

Gi thi best, it’s all tha can

do

nort gi way for a better man

Tha’ll fornd wi’ faith, tha’ll

get through, judged on t’ race tha ran.     (

 Om finished nah, aah that’s t’lot, the’s nowt more

or ‘ave ter say,

Av know thi sin tha wer in thi

cot 

od ork ta help thi on thi way.

Sooa off tha gooas, tha’ll be

alreet,

tha’s summat t’elp, tha’s pluck.

Tha’ll nooan bi trod on baaht a

feight

Off tha gooas lad, best a luck.

The “Huddersfield Examiner”s Centenery

A hundred years ah’ve telled

the tale, whether it wer good o’ bad,

a hundred years ah’ve talked

b’aht fail, of deeds both joyful and sad.

Truth’s torch ah’ve ‘eld, ‘eld

it aloft, nivver flayed in its friendly leet,

allus met anger wi’ answers

soft, haah ivver dark’s been t’neet.

Though am nobbut classed a

little chap, ta please all ah’ve done mi best,

Nivver aaht-growin’ t’owd cloth

cap and willing to teck any new test.

Soos ah stop to look araahnd,

ah see all t’friends av made

an’ think of them who’se laid

in t’ ground, baht who ad nivver ah made t’grade.

Soa ‘ere’s ter you, look mi in

t’face, may I allus call yer mi friend.   

     Here’s to them that ran a good race,                       may we all meet again

                           in the end.

Little Stranger

Welcome little stranger, tha’ll

nooan be strange sa long,

tha’ll sooan bi filli’ th’

aahse wi some sooart of a song.

Tha’s bin a worl i’ comin’

sooas or ‘ope tha’s bena stay

fer already th’aahse is breeter

an’ tha’s browt a sunny day.

Come to thi granny, let’s forn

thi a name

tha’s made us all sweeat but am

glad tha came.

Let’s ‘ave a look at thi, atta

owt lork me

fer it’s cappin’ what a

likeness some fowk can see.

Ney, tha’s mooast lork thasen

yet, wit hi mother’s een

um bunts say them’s ‘ers cos

it’s plain to be seen.

Aye, thi’ll spoil thi or know,

an’ me an’ all

whan tha comes croring to tha

granny after a fall.

It dunt seeam two minutes since

thi mother wer born

an, sem as thee when you came,

ot were t’ first thing in t’morn.

Term fair slips bor an’ we neer

tay na ‘eed,

till we see lorns in t’ glass

at iveryone can read.

Come to thi granny, for tha’s

chock tain mi ‘eart

‘ave known thi five minutes an’

tha’s claimed t’biggest part

-hey, don’t look lork that,

let’s ‘ave nooa songs

om teckin’ thi back to tha

mother, wheer tha belongs.