#DickieBird

#IanMcMillan

Ian McMillans poem for Dickie Bird. RIP a great character, umpire and Yorkshireman

From under t’canal like a watter-filled cellar Coming up like a pitman from a double’un, twice, I said ‘Hey, you’re looking poorly He said ‘Them nights are drawing in’ Down’t stairs like a gob-machine, sucking toffees, up a ladder like a ferret up a ladder in a fog, I said, ‘Hey, you’re looking poorly’ He said ‘Half a dozen eggs’ Over’t top in’t double-decker groaning like a whippet like a lamp lighter’s daughter in a barrel-full of milk, I said ‘Hey, you’re looking poorly’ He said ‘Night’s a dozen eggs’ Down t’canal like a barrow full of Gillis’s parsnips coming up like a cage of men in lit-up shiny hats, I said ‘Hey, you’re looking poorly’ He said ‘Half a dozen nights’ Under t’canal on a pushbike glowing like an eggshell Up a ladder wi’ a pigeon and a broken neck, I said ‘Hey, you’re looking poorly’ He said ‘I feel like half a dozen eggs’ Over t’night on a shiny bike wi’ a lit-up hat, Perfect for’t poorly wi’ heads like eggs. I said, ‘Hey, you died last week’ He said ‘Aye, did you miss me?’

#Poetry
#Poem
#BlueskyPoetry
#IanMcMillan

The Meaning of Life (A Yorkshire Dialect Rhapsody)
by Ian McMillan

On my way to #Skipton to rehearse/record with #SkiptonCamerata and #IanMcmillan
#ANorthernScore