Canny Shields (For Jimmy to post)

[cushy butterfield]

Jimmy, here's the poem, again, hubby talked about at the meeting. I think it very appropriate for all to enjoy.

Canny Shields

When I luk oot the winda’ reet across the miles o’ fields
Me heart jist turns t’ wattor at the thowt o’ Canny Shields,
An though the bords sings champion still Aa wud raither bee
Where Aa kin hear the tramcars, an’ the mormor o’ the sea,

When Aa luk oot the winda’ an’ see them clarty fields,
Aa think aboot the streets w’ hev in canny aad Sooth Shields,
Korbs t’ play Chucks an’ Handies on, Pavements for baaly bays,
Lamp posts t’ climb, knockers t’ knock-dozens o’ different ways
T’ set the Pollis after ye, An’ hear –Aa luk at fields-
An’ wish that Aa was hyem agyen, in canny aad Sooth Shields.

When Aa luk oot the winda’ reet across them dreary fields,
Aa think aboot the champion things us diz in canny Shields,
Crossed pins laid on the tramlines; an’ ye giv geet roozin cheers
When the’re run-ower, an’ flattened oot intiv a pair o’ shears,
Y’ can’t dee clivvor tricks like that in miles an’ miles o’fields.
Aa wish that Aa wuz hyem agyen, in canny aad Sooth Shields.

Capt. John Hadwin Doyle

[baldy.smith]

Brilliant, I really enjoyed that.

[Jarrow Pete]

Very nice,enjoyed reading it, can relate to a few things mentioned in it.

[StottieCake]

Awwwww Great stuff Cushy.

Sorry I didn't get to the Croon,

Mr Stottie sez the (you lot)boardies might be an iffy crew . He's worked at Appledore in Hebburn but was seen in the Caledonia pub most afternoons playing guitar!!( ) and as he's at sea now I didn't want to go by myself. I still feel like I missed out from being at the New Crown and wish you all the best Cushy.

Ah well, 'til the next time xxx

[gag]

Hi Cushy.

Very good that poem, I enjoyed it. Hope you had a great time yesterday, sorry I coundnt make it due to work shift pattern.

cheers.

gag.

[Barney]

Excellent poem, nicely done in the vernacular.
Aye, bring a lump to the throat and a tear to the eye!

Well done cushy, and I hope you're enjoying the holida!

[comeonthen]

Have you been ‘laid-up’ with illness?
In a little back room bed?
Have you panted for the stillness?
Of the desert or the dead?

Have you lain awake all nightime,
And watched the daylight grow?
Heard the c*cks all greet the daytime,
And the workshop buzzers blow

Then you lay like Coue picking
Some small comfort from his plan,
Till you hear schoolboys kicking
Up the street some old tin can.

You may start up thinking ‘nightmares’!
Or some dreadful battle dream,
‘Tis but the ragman’s bugle blare,
Or the whistle for ice cream.

If your pain has now abated
And you seek the land of nod,
You’ll find it agitated
By the fishwife’s cry “Fresh Cod”.

‘Stead of sheep, you count the fruitmen
Selling ‘taties with loud yells,
How they strive to beat the milkmen,
Shouting “Milk’ and ringing bells.

Comes the changing stream of hawkers,
Calling “Props and tubs to mend”,
Makes you wish those raucous barkers’,
In the place where sinners end.

While you lay there at their mercy,
And for peace you helpless pray,
Comes a voice like mocking heresy,
“D’ye want fresh kippers to-day”?

If you’re not a pious thinker
And feel nearly ‘round the bend’,
You curse the back-street tinker,
Calling “Pots and pans to mend

Of those noises you’ve stopped thinking
Then you’re dropping off to sleep,
But to stop your forty winking
There’s the plaintive cry of “Sweep”.

But the call to you most loathsome,
Because it fits you well,
Is the ragman’s call so gruesome,
“Any rags or bones to sell?”

Then there comes the coll’ry bellman,
Who fills you full of scorn,
As he shouts above the bedlam,
“All the pits lie idle th’ morn”.

The nights bring you short respite,
From the noises of the day,
For peace in poor streets at night Has never long to stay.

You have longed for the nights darkness,
And the silence it might bring,
But cats care nought for illness,
When their serenades they sing.

As the darkest hour approaches
When to sleep you fitfull fall,
But you start up with reproaches,
At the ‘Knocker-ups’ loud call.

So another day has started,
With its noises all again,
And you envy the departed,
Whom ‘The Caller’ calls in vain.

comeonthen

[anna]

=D> =D> =D> Brilliant Cushy ...

[anna]

comeonthen ..good poem, but dont you think its a bit rude ,,putting it in Cushy,s thread ,,and not even a mention of your thoughts on her poem ...
call me old fashioned if you like ,,i think its called manners

[baldy.smith]

comeonthen ..good poem, but dont you think its a bit rude ,,putting it in Cushy,s thread ,,and not even a mention of your thoughts on her poem ...
call me old fashioned if you like ,,i think its called manners

You're right anna, it would have been best posted in a new topic.

It appears to be a case of trying to "steal someones thunder" I think that's the correct expression.

[jimmywizz]

1st class =D> =D> =D> =D>

[comeonthen]

You are both right and I hope that Cushy will forgive me. Her poem was very good, that good that it prompted me to put mine in as it reflected Shields life also. I do things on impulse that sometimes land me in trouble as most people know.
comeonthen

[Jarrow Pete]

You are both right and I hope that Cushy will forgive me. Her poem was very good, that good that it prompted me to put mine in as it reflected Shields life also. I do things on impulse that sometimes land me in trouble as most people know.
comeonthen

Yes we do know that.