‘e were purple in’t face with wisteria blush
with big ginger tufts at side o’ ‘is face
‘is round belly ‘ung over ‘is trousers
which were always a jot too short
the cuff o’ ‘is socks on display
usually checkered blacks and yella’s
with black braces hitchin’ ’em up
always ‘ad a pocket watch ‘ed tek t’ ‘is ‘and at a quater t’ nine on a friday night
leanin’ on’t lampost
waitin’ fer ‘is lady luck, Mrs Esther Muffet
me gandma would look through’t window and tutt
‘e’s a rum one ‘e is!’
one time I asked ‘er what all she meant
ya know what she said?
‘Well, ‘e looks like a man who’d play’t trumpet, but ‘e don’t! I don’t trust a man who looks as ‘e does yet don’t play a trumpet!’
Well! I thought ‘er a rum one sayin’ things like that!
me grandad came in and asked, ‘What ya think ol’ Gorbet sideburns is waitin’ fer?’
”is trumpet!’ I replied
me gran rolled ‘er eyes, ”es waitin’ on little Miss Muffet! Ya know this be now!’
”ere she goes! finally got up off ‘er tuffet!’ me grandad grinned
‘Don’t ‘e know she’s married?’ Me gran would ask each time
‘don’t she know she’s married?’ would come my grandad’s reply
and we’d spy through’t window, duckin’ when thee so much as glanced our way
and that one time me granddad turned and said with a sly grin
‘Well, at least ‘e’s got the ‘orn now!’
and me gran wacked ‘im o’er the ‘ead!

This is written for W3