Whilst you folks are still here, I'd like to cheekily get your opinions on some Lancashire dialect I have been writing.

I'm not sure if I'll get flamed by purists of the dialect scene, but from what I can tell, dialect varied from writer to writer and each had their own style and spelling. I'd be interested to hear what anyone thought. It's autobiographical.

Aw'm A Joiner's Lad   

Aw'm a joiner's lad, Aw cum frum Lancasheer.
Tha'll awlus 'ear us singing, cos mi' heart is full o' cheer.
Bi' day Aw mek noo wind'ers, fettle rooves an' men' rip'eers.
Bi' neet Aw'm singing in the pub, an' supping fruthy beer.

Aw'm a joiner's lad, Aw cum froo Owdham way.
Us grandad wur a joiner, an' us fa'ther follerd sway.
As a lad, Aw thowt ee's warkshop wur a grand owd place to be,
Wi' sa'wdus piled up t' thi' knees, an' o' tha' leawd machinery.

Aw'm a joiner's lad. Aw cum frum Saddleworth,
Us fa'ther wur a Dobcrosser fr' t' moment o' ee's birth.
We awlus did together, an' 'ee larnt mi o' mi' wark.
Bi' th' Austerland's owd chimney was weer Aw med mi' mark.

Neaw, Aw'm full grew'n, mi' hands are full o' segs
Cose Aw'm awlus fitching wood.
Aw luv the touch an' smell o' it, theer's nobbut else as good.
Aw've a rule in mi' fob, Aw've a 'ammer bi' mi' side,
An' a pencil ut back o' th' ear.
Fowk have said that Aw'm fair good, an' Aw'm awlus summat near.

Aw'm a joiner's lad, Aw cum frum Lancasheer.
Tha'll awlus 'ear us singing cose mi heart is full o' cheer.
Bi' day Aw mek new wind'ers, fettle rooves an' men' rip'eers.
Bi' neet Aw'm singing in the pub, an' supping fruthy beer.

Aw med mi sel' a 'at stand fro' a packing crate Aw found.
Happen it wer mango wood, it's th' best 'at stand around.
Th' nee'als ut war in it, well, Aw bent 'em up fur 'ooks.
It's stands bi'side the shelving that Aw med fur o' mi' b'ooks.

Aw've med tebbles an' churs, an' a flart o' curly sturs,
An' a cubbert f' mi owd guitar,
Gates an' doo'rs, an' fences an' floo'rs,
An' sum thin's jus' f' loo'king.
Aw'll mek a grandfa'ther clock frum th' owd wood stock,
Wi' a skirt a t' bottom, an' a finial a-top,
An' theaw'll 'ear me singing if tha's walking by mi' shop.

Aw 'um a little tune as Aw get on wi' mi' wark.
Aw scribble words ut noonin, mi' pencil's awlus sharp.
Bi' t' time Aw'm 'eaded wohm-ward, Aw've a pretty good idea.
O' what Aw'm going t' sing t' neet, f' them ut's gathered 'ere.

Aw'm a joiner's lad, Aw cum frum Lancasheer.
Theaw'll awlus 'ear us singing cose mi heart is full o' cheer.
Bi' day Aw mek new wind'ers, fettle rooves an' men' rip'eers.
Bi' neet Aw'm singing in the pub an' supping fruthy beer.


                                                                                M.J.K.Whitehead


I don't know how many people are still writing in this style.

Actually, it's lyrics to a song I've written, again, I'm hoping to perform it soon.

It was inspired by listening to Mark Dowding, in fact, it came to me after hearing his first couple of verses of Bowton's Yard, although I quickly deviated from that melody.

Most of the verses can be sung to the tune of Bowton's yard, apart from the two longer ones, which pick up pace a bit.

Again, I'm hoping to take advantage of the recording equipment Mark is bringing to Bancroft Mill in about three weeks, so I should be able to let you hear it then. I hope you enjoy it as a poem.