Ey – WeAll – Sithee

(Y th’ words o t’maister)

Ar reckon

Ti start off

At th’ start off

But this lottle

Niver finish

Nay dark time

Yar lang spring day

N sithee oo thes

Gan on up theer

 

Nobbut yan bumless seat

IvRy yan o’ them theer

Heelan’ Festivall goers

Wo fair tumlin ower th’ sells

Forra plAas onna pew

Norra crack tween cheAks

N stannin ovAashons anal

Edinburroh!

Ooos bowt that

Forra birra

YorkShire

Stage CoAch

 

N thas voices tiv ear nall

Voices! – Hark,

“Tell all actors – I give my life in your service”

Skell yer lugs noo

Nuther voice speAks,

“Ar am A Louisiana Lady –

Hear me gift these Steel Magnolias”

Cors thers ‘Voice’ afor,

 

 

 

“I am the Voice as the Voice before

As the Voice before as the Voice

And all Voices echoing back

To the Voice that allowed”

Divolvin – Dirivin – Observin

John Cooper

Francis Cleather

Et all

Et all

Ah

Back Theer

Thes Thomas

 

Noo then!

Trumpet Cantrell,

“For you my muse

I would lie under Clitheroe stones”

Ey – Wiskin willy nilly

Throwt mi pshychi

SweAt Felicity – Goodness!,

“I am diversity – But now Lancastrian!”

NogudBo

WeAl cast!

“Relishing roles – Galloping Gods – Smile”

As wishin ar wus as riverenshall

Y this role

As

Captain Fackrell

“See this dim eye – Rocking – Hearing – Being”

Ta n tarra

Tarra Oberon.

Eeyup – Heildred

“He loves me – He loves me not”

Tha wunders – WeAl – Daint.

Thist – Th Poystman

“Sleeping in for Death

A life of raw fish reeled before me”

H’ - Tossed the role off!

Noo then

Thes a lille gurl growin

Y th’ wing – Hey up

Adrenilin Annie

“Think of the intricacies”

Eee n thal niver av sich lovin agaAn as

Themostry Taylor,

“This cherry in my chocolate cake”

Thes non as love it sike sa much as,

“Thank you Claregub – for the hope”

No ope less us as derecta evso special

N a wIeld collaberata as ‘wishes’ music –

Waite….

Ey – noothen – sithee

WeAl A weeish ar wor theer

Edin-arty-burro

Thes mony on yon Heeland folk

As weeish theh wer ear

Nubbut matter

We are

Appen

It’s strAngge

But noest it noo

Thars onlee thoo’ll know it

Laiyd alive afor ya

LARDIDAR LADYFOLK N

ARLL YOO FAIR GENELMEN

Over neAth tMilkwood

I introduced an act from Under Milkwood for the Stage Coach Theatre at their fundraising event at the Theatre Royal, York with this specially commissioned poem.

Under Milkwood