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.