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Local Christmas Weather

This is not a canal or a river - it's the road through the village.

In the Name of the Rose

1.   The first of many poems to be put on here. 

        In the Name of the Rose
        (To be read in a Lancashire accent)

One day when Harry went out with his wife,

They met an old couple they’d known all their life.

“How’s things with you?” asked David, his friend.

“Good,” said old Harry. “My legs’ll still bend.

I’ve got some new glasses and hearing aids too.

So, I have to admit that I’m fine. How are you?”

When David had told him about their TV

And how they had snacks on a tray on their knee

And how he could still take the dog for a walk,

Harry said nowt and let David’s wife talk.

She said that they’d been to the shops yesterday,

And had fish and chips in the station café.

Harry said they’d bin th’ pictures last night,

And saw a new film that was really all right.

 “So what was it called?” asked Dave, tickled pink.

“Well, dammit!” said Harry and started to think.

But the thought wouldn’t come, though he scratched his head twice.

He could only confirm that he thought it was nice.

Then he thumped on his forehead and had an idea,

“Dave. Worr is the name o’ that plant over theer?

That one with the scent and the petals that’s grand.

It has thorns on its stalk, that’ll prickle your hand.”

“A rose?” said old Dave, with no hesitation.

“That’s it!” exclaimed Harry, in great excitation.

Then he turned to his wife, like it was the last straw,

“Rose.   What was the name of that film what we saw?”