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trinkie
23-Dec-06, 20:37
Christmas Long Ago.
by Jenny S Stewart.

Wi Christmas fast approachin now all thochts till Santa tuned,
Ah'm mindin on ma childhood days, ah've turned e' clockie roond,
Till Christmas fan we's all at homm, creatin quite a fuss
Couldna wait till see fit Santa Claus hes brocht till us.

I'd started twa'r three weeks afore, wi pen an peypur sat,
Composed wur letters till 'umsell' requestin' 'Iss' or 'At'
A lookie till yur mam afore'd wis posted up e lum
Then plenty ithur things till do 'fore Christmas day did come.

E Christmas shoppin done wi cash cubed fey yur poakid money,
Ivrything we needed wis in Woolies mind id's funny
Ye aye hed twa'r three coppers left for sweeties till yursell
Ah think poor mam's purse subsidised wur spendin, who can tell.

Ma dad got same thing ivry year, a bottle afturshave
''Imperial Leather' if ah mind richt, boy he'd sit an rave
Aboot e fine smell he'd pit on, ye'd smell um fey a mile.
Boot did e trick, he lekked id, so we'd sit ere wi a smile.

Ah mind buyin mam a sugar bowl, blue gless, cost wan an six,
Failan at an ornament, ah's nivver in a fix.
Wur Chanis got a fancy purse or stuff till make bath bubble,
Twa cotton hankies for e boys, they's nivver any trouble.

Sneaked ma treasures homm wi mam, all cloaked in secrecy
Fancy wrapped then planked in drawer, all hid till Christmas Day.
Wur tree pit up, all tinsel decked, wi angel on e top,
Pine needles stickin in beyre feet at meyde ye howl an hop !

E day idsell began aroon six, we'd sit up in e bed
Ma sis wid say 'Chen, Santa's been' Ah looked an boy he hed !
A pillow-slip choost stowed wi' goodies, lippin ower e rim
Ah most hev been richt good till get sa many things fey him.

We'd all converge until wan room, sing 'Chingle Bells' full belt
Wi shouts o 'Go back till yur beds' boot nivver did fit's telt.
E floor a meyss o toarn up peypur, toys took pride o pleyss,
A sugar peegie for till sook meybe mooths a sticky meyss.

E dennur wiz a work o art till fill wur bowgs up ticht,
We all e fancy feeds ah've hed, thurs no a finer sicht.
Than new meyde duff strecht fey e cloot, e skin all shinin broon
An though ye's fill afore id came ye sat an packed id doon.

Ah think masell Christmas now is too commercialised
Wi decorations in October, time they realised
At Christmas past wiz simple pleasure, owlden days wiz better.
An wi at comment ah mosst run till post ma Santa Letter.

Kenn
23-Dec-06, 23:19
Once again trinkie thanks for another wonderful poem, it painted a grand picture and the sentiment was all too true.

trinkie
24-Dec-06, 10:22
Hallo Lizz and Dancing Witch,
I am so glad you have enjoyed the Caithness Poems I love sharing them.
If I have time today, I will try to send yet another little Treasure which I think you will love..... though I am now pushed for time !
I do enjoy the poems submitted here on the Lit Page - is there another book here do you think ? I must thank you all for your poems.
Caithness has always had a rich store of writers and it's good to see this continues.

airdlass
24-Dec-06, 10:39
Hi Cousin!
Enjoying your poems:D
Keep them coming!