Absolution
it’s been foorty years
zince yer last confusion.
Neverwhiles in the pub
where you was zittin,
fer I was listnin to you woo
bright’n cheery maids.
Red-haired they was, fither,
don’t you go an deny it,
behind yer game a ordinary cairds.
I seen ya creakin in yer vestments,
thinkin noons the miser,
er somesich in yer ringading bell.
Nodden down foorn yer blessin,
fither, yer the one a needs it now.
Nodden down, den zither
we’cn go an dream
another paint a stout.
Nodden down, den zither
we’cn scheme
what life is all about.
January 9, 2006
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