DAY TRIP
It’s all systems go for our day trip to Rhyl,
And wi hope that the rain doesn’t fall.
There’s Tom, Dick, Harry, our owd lass and me,
And owd Uncle Tom Cobley and all.
Now wi ain’t borrowing Tom Pearces old mare,
Cos wi think it’s quicker by bus.
So wi’ve hired one of Branson’s a fine local firm,
Cos it’ll be a lot quicker and better for us.
Now Wales is the land of mi fathers they say,
So it must be mi mothers as well.
It’s also renowned for great singers and poets
And tongue twisting names hard to spell.
Now! I hope tha’s got plenty of money to spend,
And lashings of good grub to ate.
If not, please don’t worry thi sen cos in Wales,
They’ve always got plenty of slate.
But be careful if tha going to buy a meal there,
Cos they don’t eat the same as we English do.
They have their welsh rabbits wi lettuce and leeks,
While we’d sooner have our own rabbit stew.
The last time I came on a day trip to Rhyl,
My poem upset one or two folk.
Let me tell you it wasn’t intended dear friends,
It was just my idea of a joke.
By
Alfred Weston
© Copyright Reserved 2003