Sunday, December 19, 2010

Ruminatin'

An old family friend passed away a few years ago.
I remember hearing him recite a poem in my youth,called "Ruminatin'"
His daughter found the poem written in his notes and passed a copy along to me in remembrance.
Put on your old English accent and enjoy this one.


Ruminatin'


I've tended this old garden now,
Nigh three score year and ten, 
For I started as a tiny lad,
Squire's granfer owned it then.
An' now the squire be gettin' grey
So quick the years do pass,
While ruminatin', ruminatin'
Cuttin' of the grass.

I ruminates on men an' things
Long dead an' gorn they say,
But I can tell 'ee different
I sees 'em ev'ry day.
P'raps they're ghosts why 'oo can tell?
They're plain to me I know.
While ruminatin' ruminatin'
Leanin' on me hoe.

They come into the garden
The gents and ladies too.
They've all a word for gar'ner Joe
Wot's close on eighty-two.
But 'ale an' 'arty - God be thanked,
An' still obeyin' orders,
While ruminatin', ruminatin'
Clearin' up the borders.

So when me last long path is swept,
An' Joe is laid to sleep,
I 'opes they'll put me 'andy like
So as I still can keep,
Me eye on these 'ere flowers o' mine
Though I be lost to sight,
Still ruminatin', ruminatin'
Around these walks at night.

A. Lester Beadles & Harry Hudson.


1 comment:

Ruby said...

A Grand ol' poem indeed!