Poems of Rural Life in the Dorset Dialect/Grammer's Shoes
GRAMMER’S SHOES.
I do seem to zee Grammer as she did use
Vor to show us, at Chris’mas, her weddèn shoes,
An’ her flat spreadèn bonnet so big an’ roun’
As a girt pewter dish a-turn’d upside down;
When we all did draw near
In a cluster to hear
O’ the merry wold soul how she did use
To walk an’ to dance wi’ her high-heel shoes.
She’d a gown wi’ girt flowers lik’ hollyhocks,
An’ zome stockèns o’ gramfer’s a-knit wì’ clocks,
An’ a token she kept under lock an’ key,—
A small lock ov his heäir off avore ’t wer grey.
An’ her eyes wer red,
An’ she shook her head,
When we’d all a-look’d at it, an’ she did use
To lock it away wi’ her weddèn shoes.
She could tell us such teäles about heavy snows,
An’ o’ rains an’ o’ floods when the waters rose
All up into the housen, an’ carr’d awoy
All the bridge wi’ a man an’ his little bwoy;
An’ o’ vog an’ vrost,
An’ o’ vo’k a-lost,
An’ o’ peärties at Chris’mas, when she did use
Vor to walk hwome wi’ gramfer in high-heel shoes.
Ev’ry Chris’mas she lik’d vor the bells to ring,
An’ to have in the zingers to heär em zing
The wold carols she heärd many years a-gone,
While she warm’d em zome cider avore the bron’;
An’ she’d look an’ smile
At our dancèn, while
She did tell how her friends now a-gone did use
To reely wi’ her in their high-heel shoes.
Ah! an’ how she did like vor to deck wi’ red
Holly-berries the window an’ wold clock’s head,
An’ the clavy wi’ boughs o’ some bright green leaves,
An’ to meäke twoast an’ eäle upon Chris’mas eves;
But she’s now, drough greäce,
In a better pleäce,
Though we’ll never vorget her, poor soul, nor lose
Gramfer’s token ov heäir, nor her weddèn shoes.