Yorkshire Poem

  

Eyup here’s a bit of gumption from Marshals gaffer,

Fettle we’ll see thee in Gods County;

Me sen I doff me flat cap to you no matter,

I think thee is a clant’ head see.

 

For luggin your sen round one hundred miles,

Anyhow mun put ye off with me chanter and smiles;

Happen some advice may be in order from tha host,

Weather up ere can be a bit fretty and nesh on t’coast.

 

So you’ll need to cadge a coit in a hustle,

Think on to lap plenty of tea on t’route;

We’ll be mashing a fair lick of it to guzzle,

There’ll be scran to put in cake’ole to suit.

 

If it siles it down you’re gonna get clarty,

And you’ll need your keks on these days,             

But if sun shines you’ll be a mafted party;

And looking for hafe from its sunny rays.

 

By the end you will have blebs on your feet,

Your legs will storton and wark in the heat;

And you’ll be blethering and blathered up,

Yet thall allus remember this walk when you sup.

 

And be chuffed to bits we thee sen,

There’s summat to be proud of I say;

If there's aht I’ve missed tween now and then,

Old cock, yon can allus ask us on t’day.