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Oi be nowt but an auld country hick,
we a liddle bit of gall, an a lotta stick.
Oi baint niver afeared to speak me mind,
nor critizise folks harshly iffen Oi find
zummit I don’t loik.  Tis allus best
Oi reckins to git it offen me chest.
Ar tis true, zum don’t loik it arn bit,
but Oi zes ard luck, if the ‘at do fit,
then thee’d better do zummit about
changing yerself.  Oi niver az doubt,
wot Oi sez, be the truth of wot Oi zees.
Oi bain’t changing nowt just to pleaze!
Iffen youse don’t loik wot Oi do zay,
allus gotta do, iz to change yer way,
coz iffen youse finks Oi mite bend
or twist the truth, then me auld frend
youse got Oi mixed up we annuver,
az Oi finks youse’ll zoon discover.
Oi be zed to take atter me auld Dad.
Ee wer a guid feller, zum wished they’d ad
fer a fadder.  Ee were awlus onest an fair,
an ee’d nair repeat a lie.  Ee’d nair swair
zummit were wot it wer if not true,
coz Ee kipt bees az an obby, an knew
awl that wer gwoin on around an about
the villiges.  Atter thay zussed fings out,
thay’d tell it awl to im. Gawd’s strewth,
he ne’er zaid anyfing, zeptin the truth!
Zo that’s ow tiz: yew kin loik it or lumpit.
Iffen yew finks Oi be blowin me trumpit,
or iffen yew finks Oi’m a liddle bumzious,
donee zay anyfing rude or prezumptious,
or figger Oi’ll lissen to thee cavil an wine.
Kip thee vuez to yerself, and uzill git on foine!
Wot opinions Oi gies, bain’t nowt but me own,
not zum wikked rumour Oi erd on the fone.
Oi be allus entittled to gie opinion I fink,
e’en iffen wotz Oi zays mite cauz a stink!
Oi’m nowt but a genuwine country bumpkin,
born unner a cabbige big az a gert pumpkin!
Or zo me dear auld mother did allus zay.
Oi fink Oi zurprized er thick November day
wen Oi popped out loik a cork, awl a zudden,
rinkled awl o’er, loik a o’erdun zuet pudden!
Bawlin and ollerin, zeems the nayburrs I woke,
and thay, wunnering wot was up, loik normal folk,
zent for docter.  Wen he came, we is oss and cart,
ee gie a slap on me rump, zo me breevin woud start,
then told me mudder, Oi was a rite bonny lad,
an er aught to be proud of the bairn er just ad,
coz ee coud zee Oi had brains, unloik zum ee knew.
In fact zaid ee, thair wer mudders, more than a few
who had bairns whose fadders, and thiz be true,
thay’d ad no knowin, an oud niver know who?
But that be nowt but a liddle azide Oi rote,
case you wunnered wot Oi’d dun late of note?
Coz ceptin fer Oi riting this biograffic pome,
Oi ain’t dun much, cept to sit idlin ere at home,
coz me ealth ain’t bin zo vairy good of late,
an zittin doin nowt, don’t zit well on me plate.
Zome oud av Oi parked in a whome fer the auld,
but Oi bain’t ready fer that yet, az thay’ve bin told.
Oi bain’t gwoin thair, no matter wot you finks,
coz Oi be a free finkin spirit, wiv creatif links
to thick auld poet an playrite Shackspear Willy!
Now thair wer a vairy clever feller, an creatif dilly
who coud rite a play, afore a candle burned out,
carouzin an zingin we iz pals, atter quaffin stout.
Twer amazin ow ee coud turn iz pleays out!
Iffen Oi wer loik ee, Oi’d be famouz no doubt.
Oi loiks to kip me two years close to the earth,
whair Oi gits awl me nues and scandals werth
repeatin, az Oi loiks to kip nozey nayburrs advised.
Yew shoud zee thair faeces wen thay’m zurprized
we wot Oi tellz em. Thay deays Oi cain’t find nun,
Oi az to recite wun of me pomes fer zum fun,
an zum times thay gits zum folks riled and mad,
wen they fines tiz by a bumpkin thay’ve bin ad!
Ah Oi do av fun playin a country bumpkin chap,
but wen Oise ad enuff, or zummit inzide do snap,
then Oi be forced to act quite normally again.	
But that bain’t nar bit o fun, an nobbit but a pain!
Zo yerby enz annuver poetic masterpeace of mine,
only opes you cin read it proper, line by line?
It took Oi zum time to put werds in correck spellin,
but if thairs mistakes? Oi don’t wont yer to go tellin
thay who av no cleer idear how awl Darzet folk zeay
thair werds, wen thay’m talkin, in thair normal weay!

Rhymer.  November 24th, 2016.
As well as I can recall my dialect after fifty years absence.
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