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A Wee Hauf Vee

This great poem comes from my correspondent Danny Reynolds who obviously attended St Patrick’s High School in Dumbarton. He read my post about Hermitage Academy (about 8 miles down the road) and sent me a link to his work.

Absolutely brilliant Danny!!

Danny Reynolds
Dalton in Furness, England
2005

First day at St Patrick’s High,
Decimalisation day nigh,
Sylvester and Tweety Pie,
Wur still funny.

Ha’penny Caramels disappeared,
The inside o yer scarf, pult doon roon yer ears.
Mr Cunningham’s belt, held no fears,
Bit it seemed ye goat less fur yir money.

School trips tae Girvan or Ayr,
The English teacher, unaware,
We’d hid Newkie Broons and Whisky somewhere,
Till we threw it a’ up oan the bus.

Some sad gits liked “Marmalade”,
Me an ma pals wur a’ intae “Slade”,
(A kin mind, when the first Live album was made,
it sure sounded heavy tae us!)

Skinny-Rib jumpers, Oxford Bags,
Levy Stai-press, Kensitas Fags,
Save up the coupons, Bazooka Joe gags,
Send away for the X-Ray specs.

The gangs on the school train, would try no tay mix,
Till they sent a 3 carriager, insteed o a six.
There wiz nuthin a good sharp compass widnae fix,
Tay get fae wan Station tae the next.

The “Spur”, the “Dinky”, the railway bridge pongs,
The “Haldane Hatchets”, the “Bowl o’ Meal” Tongs,
The Spam Valley Scout Troup, where no-one belongs,
But there’s one memory, that really is odd!

“Dad, don’t get yir petrol fay Texaco!”
I think it wiz the World Cup in Mexico.
When a think back noo, it makes me vex ye know,
Collecting coins, o the England squad!

When Monty Python wiz still a hoot.
John Peel, before the punks came oot.
For weddings a double-breasted suit,
No tay mention platform shoes.

Before the Jam, wi their “Eton Rifles”
There wiz the City Bakery’s fresh cream trifles,
The back o the chapel, where the laughter stifles.
It’s nay wonder, ah now love the Blues!