Local Poetry

Deawn Bloody Wiggin  By Cyril Ashurst

Ah ceawered one neet i' th' bloody Vale
Just suppin' bloody lousy ale,
An' towd mi mate a bloody tale
Uv a trip deawn bloody Wiggin;
Mi bloody wife made me go deawn
To shop i' yon owd bloody teawn,
It cost mi hawf a bloody creawn
To get deawn bloody Wiggin.

Yon place, it gi'es mi th' bloody hump,
It knocks mi off mi bloody chump,
It's nothin' bud a bloody dump
Deawn yond i' bloody Wiggin;
There's pubs noan fit fer bloody pigs,
Hawf on 'em don't sell bloody cigs
An' th' bloody lan'lords aw wear wigs
Deawn yond i' bloody Wiggin.

Ah bowt a bloody gill o' beer,
By gow, it wur'nt hawf bloody dear,
Ah thowt as Ah'd bowt bloody pier
Deawn yond i' bloody Wiggin.
There's bloody cops eawt o' their beat,
Wi' bloody cut boats o' their feet,
They tak' up hawf o' th' bloody street
Deawn yond i' bloody Wiggin.

There's bloody women dress't i' clogs,
They jump abeawt like bloody frogs
As they queue eawtside bloody bogs
Deawn yond i' bloody Wiggin.
An' aw o' th' bloody men ar' th' same,
They stuff pies i' their bloody frame
While watchin' a bloody rugby game
Deawn yond i' bloody Wiggin.

There's foalk o' bloody shoppin' trips
Who stuff theirsel' wi' bloody chips,
They're nowt but bloody greedy rips
Deawn yond i' bloody Wiggin.
Ah cawed i' th' bloody Markit Ha',
It drove mi reight up th' bloody wa'
They'n bloody nowt i' theer at aw
Deawn yond i' bloody Wiggin.

Tha caun't buy bloody pails er mops,
They don't sell bloody daycent chops,
They'n nowt but bloody pies i' th' shops
Deawn yond i' bloody Wiggin.
They don't make bloody daycent brews,
Tha caunt buy bloody gradely shoes,
They'n on'y stuff fer bloody foo's
Deawn yond i' bloody Wiggin.

Her shouldn't ha' sent mi th' bloody wife,
Her caused mi nowt but bloody strife,
T'wur wust day uv mi bloody life
Deawn yond i' bloody Wiggin,
Neaw Ah know Ah've ta'n a bloody poke
At aw yo' bloody Wiggin folk,
Ah just did it fer a bloody joke
Cos Ah luv bloody Wiggin.