Ello, Gwammy,
Yea, saw the wain, Gwammy,
Big dwops fallin’ on the soil.
Dwopped fwom clouds.
Aunt Jan was angwy.
Said I get wet.
But I took her bwolly,
The one with the paint on it.
Big bwolly so I no get wet.
Went on the bench to see better.
The soil got wet.
Aunt Jan called me,
But I want to see the gwass gwo.
The wain will make the gwass gwo
And I can play there.
But it gwo a lot, only
Can’t play in gwass. Much wain.
From the bench I saw lovely colows.
Aunt Jan said it’s a wainbow.
Don’t know. But you know, Gwammy,
I saw mamma on the wainbow.
She smiled and sent me a kiss.
I want to see the wainbow again.
But no wain now.
When you come
Bwing me cake with a hole.
I lowe it. I lowe you too, gwammy.
Must go.
Bye, Gwammy.
John Constable’s painting The Hay Wain
given gold medal by Charles X
inspired by villages, churches,
he was a brilliant fine arts painter
from East Bergholt
who took sketching trips
Poet John Barrington Wain
as a novelist soon found fame
Also a freelance journalist
&with poetry did persist
Louis Phiilip Wain
painting cats brought him fame
Humour in his comic strips
faded as he lost his grip
Growing up in govan as a wain
We didny have much in they days
But we'd wid never complain .
We were happy way wat Yeh geed
Nae body gret or yed get a slap on the heid.
Aw the games we aw used to play
Up n doon the street
We're aw the maws wid gather up n meet.
Gossiping gossip aw day long
N still be gabbing till the next morn.
Wed make wee dens down in the ally
Tin cans on out feet so we'd walk silly.
Play kick the can n one man hunt
And brittish bulldog doon the front.
Our kids now dont no how to play
Way too many computers n their
Hitec ways .
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