Ah 'ad t'dream t'uttha neet
'N' woake oop deathly pehle;
Elehne weer theer (o' Rambla fehme)
Accumpanid bah Dehle.
It weer a reet owd nihtemurr,
As Ah will noeauw relehte:
(Joos gimme arf a mawmunt
Saw me terra mihte abehte!)
Furst thing Ah knew Ah'm un floowa
'N' Dehle 'awlds me doeauwn reet tihte
Wihle t'dredid Rambla awpuns me gob
'N' shuvs in sum Vegemihte!
Ah gag 'n' Ah 'eave burrit does naw gud
Faw theh awpuns annutha jah
O' this 'ere vihle 'n' pewtrid mook
Wi' t'consistunsy o' tah!
Ba 'eck Ah thowt Ah'd gasped me last
Wen rescue appeers un t'scene --
It weer R Mam ('n' 'er proppa vexed),
"Naw then wot do awl this 'ere mean?
Joos leave t'lad alawn," 'er sed in 'igh rehge,
"'N' tek yon mook wi' thi, Ah seh,
Aw Ah'll githee summat t' think un," quoath she,
'N' t'lasses they fled rihte aweh.
"Tha's joos in tihme, owd lass," Ah awpihned,
"Yon Vegemihte's mehde me feel bad!"
"Theer, theer, owd luv, doan't fret thissen,
Theh joos knaw naw betta, me lad!
Ah've got summat 'ere as'll sune buck thi oop --
Joos awpun thi gob really wihde!"
'N' afaw Ah could seh owt, oeaut cehme t'spoon,
Ah 'ad t'dollop o' Marmihte insihde!
"Thass gud fer wot ails thi, lad," t'owd un sed,
As Ah stood theer awl sad 'n' fawlawn;
"Them lasses doan't 'ave this doeawn oonda, tha knaws,
Paw fawk -- theh doan't knaw that theh're bawn!"
Ah woake up in t'sweat, proppa poorly, Ah did,
'N' rushed t' t'lavvy, poast 'aste.
Ah sune go' rid o' t'poisun, ba gum,
Burrah cudden get rid o' t'tehste!
Noeauw Ah'll tellee summat fer nowt, dosta knaw,
Ah doan't want yon aggen, tharris true!
'N' if tha really wud lihke me awpinyun --
THEER'S NOWT T' CHOOSE BETWIXT T'TWO!
BLOWICK
Sunday, February 22, 1998 at 00:40:04 (EST)
If you have any archived material suitable for inclusion in the Chronicles, please email it to me: digger@corrie.net