kateoflymm Posted November 24, 2007 Report Share Posted November 24, 2007 Written in an Accrington accent. T'cat's got a cob on. She's sharp'nin' her claws. She's givin' me that sort of black look, tha' knows. She's clambered up t'cortins and scratted at t'chair. She's covered all t'carpet wi' big lumps of 'air. She's turned 'er back to me, 'er tail's on the swish. She's looked in disgust at the food in 'er dish. A've just tried to stroke 'er an' A wish A'd not, She caught me a swipe and it's bleedin' - a lot. But, ey up, that's Laura wot's cum in the door, Kickin' 'er shoes off in t'middle o' t'floor. T'cat goes to Laura an' starts a loud purr, Rubbin' t'child's legs wi' 'er soft silky fur. Then on to t'shoes she starts rubbin' 'er chin, Finds th'inside of 'em, sticks 'er 'eyd in, Rolls on 'em, purrs at 'em, dribbles a lot Finally lies on 'em, like it or not. T'moral of t'tale is, what ever you do, When t'cat's got a cob on, just give it a shoe. We don't know if t'polish is wot this cat loves. We know it's not t'leather, she doesn't like gloves. But give 'er a shoe an' 'er life is complete. A'm goin' fer a plaster. A'll sithee. Good neet. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Geoff Settle Posted November 24, 2007 Report Share Posted November 24, 2007 R U fray Accy? [ 24.11.2007, 22:15: Message edited by: Geoff Settle ] Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
kateoflymm Posted November 24, 2007 Author Report Share Posted November 24, 2007 Near enough - about 5 miles away. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Geoff Settle Posted November 24, 2007 Report Share Posted November 24, 2007 I used to live in Brierfield and run for Clayton Le Moor Harriers training at I think Wilson Playing Fields on a shale track. after Barry Sheen the famous motor bike rider. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
kateoflymm Posted November 24, 2007 Author Report Share Posted November 24, 2007 I don't know Wilson Playing Fields by that name but I'll guess it's on Whalley Rd, further up than the Load o' Mischief. I was born and grew up in West End, near Oswaldtwistle. It was a village then but it's grown now and is part of the town. Th'accent, as a lot of t'locals spoke it, were t'same as Accy. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Mary Posted November 25, 2007 Report Share Posted November 25, 2007 Oh I loved that poem - very good and so true! Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Brendam. Posted January 23, 2008 Report Share Posted January 23, 2008 Accents of any kind fascinate me - I loved that poem Kate, thanks. My feller is from Bamber Bridge and has an accent just like that poem - listening to it is like learning another language! Since becomes "sin", yes becomes "arrr", my lady/wife becomes "wor Peg", shall I becomes "am I to.......", I was there becomes "A wer theer", etc, I love listening to it! I may even speak it one day!Arreet? Bren.P.S. Who wrote the poem please? [ 23.01.2008, 21:27: Message edited by: Bren. ] Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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