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T’ Football Match

Eh! Thoo’s a seet wi’ thi bandaged head
An’ collar-bone broke! Why do lads play
Sike gaumless games? Coom thi ways to bed,
An’ theer thoo’ll bide fur mony a day.
The wuddent care if thoo’d nobbut won?
Ah mun fetch thi medicine. Noo where is t’latch?
Settle doon for a bit an’ try to sleep, John.
“How can I, mother? We lost the match!”

Notes

Taken from "What do they know of Yorkshire by Dorothy Una Ratcliffe. Pub Eyre and Spottiswode 1940 [p21]

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Comments


  • rufina caraid Moderators member
    February 5

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    The Football Match - not many things are more important on a saturday afternoon - not even a broken collar-bone lol. This lady writes with a charming simplicity, very pleasant poetry for an ex-pat to indulge in.
    Von