Er’s Gooin’ Saft
I think ‘er’s gooin’ saft, ya know
Thought p’raps one day ‘er might,
Sometimes ‘er ay on this planet
The poor ‘oman just ay right.
‘Er just keeps on misplacin’ things
An I ‘ay one to mek a fuss
But ‘er faculties am fadin’
And I think ‘er’s gettin’ wus.
We woz gooin’ out this mornin’
‘Er sez, “Where’s me cardy gone?”
I watched ‘er search for yonks, then sez
“Yow’ve got the damned thing on!”
Then ‘er cor find ‘er carkays,
‘Er sez, “I just doe understond,
I’ve sid ’em somewhere, sure I ‘ave.”
I sez, “They’m in ya bloody ‘ond!”
‘Er ‘ondbags in the oven,
And ‘er purse tucked up in bed,
Then ‘er glasses, they goo missin’
And I finds ’em on ‘er yead.
By the time we gets to Asda
I cor tek any more.
To cap it all ‘er turns and sez
“What ‘ave we come ’ere for?”
I think ‘er’s gooin’ yampy
Gone saft, it’s plain to see
I s’pose it ay surprisin’ ‘cus
The poor dear’s married to me!
I Cor Fly
I sez, “I’m just a babbee bird.”
I dow’ think me mother heard
As ‘er stared into the distance, a tear in ‘er eye.
‘Er sez, “Son, I’ve done me best
But it’s time yow flew the nest.”
I sez, “I cor do that, ‘coz I cor bloody fly.”
‘Er sez, “Dow gi’ me that crap
Yow’m a fully feathered chap
And ‘ow’m ya gonna know, ’til yow’ve gid it a try?
I’m afraid the time ‘as come.
It’s time yow woz leavin’ ‘um.”
I sez, “Dow’ mek me do it Mum; I cor bloody fly.”
“It’s the easiest of things,”
‘Er sez, “Just stick out ya wings
Then stond there on the branch and leap into the sky.
Goo on, get them wings unfurled
Yow ged off and see the world.”
I sez, “I‘m gooin’ nowhere, ‘coz I cor bloody fly.”
Well to show ‘er mother’s love,
‘Er gid me a bloody shove
Fighting back the tears ‘er sez, “I loves yow son, goodbye.”
As I plummet to the ground
From ‘er branch me mum looks down
And sez, “Well, who’d a thought it? Yow cor bloody fly!”
Mogs has lived in the Black Country all his life. Originally from Halesowen, he now lives in Stourbridge. He was educated at Halesowen C of E and then at Halesowen Grammar School. Armed with 3 ‘O’ Levels he began work at the MEB in 1973 as a Computer Operator. In 1989 he was diagnosed with an eye condition called Retinitis Pigmentosa and in 2003 was given early retirement. He now spends his days writing and being dragged round shops and National Trust places, and regularly performs at open mic events.
Poems Your Parents Won’t Like by Johnny ‘Mogs’ Morris was published in 2017 by Black Pear Press. You can buy the book online or at these local shops:
Banner image: Zeynel Cebeci