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Wednesday, July 04, 2007

Didn't really think I'd leave, did you?
Monday, October 25, 2004

THE FINAL STRAW
I wrote this in 1990, when she was being her usual self. Meant to alter it a bit - but never got round to it. It is accurate though. Only problem is the scansion.Used to love performing. Performed in Holyhead. Night after night. Learned Roundabouts and Swings and If, to put out in the pub. Everybody did it then. Always learning something new to put out. Then I began to write my own. The one below was written when I was 69 years old.You'll see, in verse 2, I spent thousands on those Welsh ponies, even by 1990. It got so bad that I let out the whole of Manor Farm to my younger son, very shortly thereafter. Agricultural tenancy. I put the Deeds to the property into his hands for safekeeping. I had a very good reason to do this.. and it was just as well that I shifted myself when I did.Perhaps I'll look out some more of my poems soon.Ralph




Monday, September 20, 2004

What they need is a Tame one
Back to my main ralphwinstanleyofwath site Yes. What they need is a tame one. She used to have one. He lived in the village. Nearly as good as having one in the family. Nice tame lad in uniform. Moss Branch.(Does moss have branches? Dun't matter really. Comes in the same category as moss gold. Now Moss gold's an interesting one. Parasitic!) Of course there was the cost.. but then she was spreading it about anyway.. so it din't cost a lot. Very handy for spyin out the lie of the land. Oh yes, very useful.
at 8:58 AM 0 comments links to this post
Thursday, July 22, 2004

Didn't really think I'd leave, did you?
Back to my main ralphwinstanleyofwath site Well, its been a bit of a struggle, but here I am. Free at last. Wonder if they know yet - the grasping lot. Did the kids get it back? I didn't really want to go. The morphine was nice though. Up on Cloud 9. Still wandering about. Very nice. It was the needles I didn't like. There I was, feeling no pain. Two daughters with me. Suddenly they came and stuck needles into me. I tried to pull them out. Bit of a problem really. Couldn't work out how to do it. Cloud 9 is a long way from legs. Heard what she said though. Over and over again. Every word. Not recovering then? Thought I was recovering. Wouldn't have taken the therapy otherwise. Back soon. Ralph
2:35 AM


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Wednesday, March 01, 2006

Dead an buried? Ardly!

Me dawters tried to sooert the buggers out
The wrote an spoke an wudna let it be
The spoke the truth tu spread the word abaowt
An battered down the duwers tu mek um see

But thur the wur wi extra duwers in plaice
The fended off the dawters in thur way
The took me corpse frum coroner's disgrace
But dawters stood an vowed that the would pay

The stuck me in the grownd before dawn broke -
That's if I ivver landed in me box -
The undertekker needed darkness' cloak
The same as wen ee bet on fightin cocks

An so the thowt thed buried me at last
So this ull be a lovely grand surprise
Am dead but dunt lay dawn - ah get up fast
Tu watch em as thur caught about thur lies

An soon ahl see um standin waide awake
Thur teeth ull chatter though thur jaw's clamped tiaght
Thull run an aide an wurry fur thur sake
Me dawters ull be back tu see um raight

Me laife wus allus roundabouts an swings
Ah ran it fur mesen until the caught
Ah ad me way wi muney and wi flings
An now ahm waitin on tu see the spoert

Watch the spaces round abaowt me box
Thes ony won a me - but plenty moor
Ur set below me body - thurll be shocks
Bit taime the look te see wat went befoor

An me? me laife wuz ovver foor ah died
Be neerly thutty year becoz the stole
Me freedom an me munney an the lied
Til ahd a bin much richer on the dole

The took me ealth me property me brass
The took me taime away frum all me own
An thur ah woh wi er an wi that lass
An no wun to defend me that ahd known

Until me dawter broke er lovin eart
Te see me killed an browt the other won
The tried tu elp - the fowt and took me part
An the wunt stop until thur job is dun





Monday, September 20, 2004

Thanksgivin'? Thanksgivin'? Ah'l be waitin' on

Back to my main ralphwinstanleyofwath site

Thanksgivin'? Thanksgivin'? Ah'l be waitin' on

The Scythe Carrier carried in the saddle
The 'mourners' came and carried in thur 'grief'
The Star lad prodewced a lovely photo
The Vicar? Well she 'beggered all belief'

The widder she just carried roun' 'er 'airdo
The kiddies carried on as kiddies do
The church carried shame for all't fiasco
From rafters right down low to ivery pew

The speech carried tones of consolation
The tissues carried on in damp atire
As folk sniffed an blarted at the 'ymn tune
An ah froze away frum't funeral pyre

The day carried tones a 'gret big humbug'
A sense of 'Uncle Joe, an 'is mint balls'
A turn-aht med a knackered mares an donkeys
Enough to blench cement in histry's walls

An ah carried ope wi this Thanksgivin'
Ah carried roun' the thought inside me 'ead
That it wur for the the time that ah'd spent livin
The 'ope that it wur not becos ahm dead