A Knock on t’ Dooer


“Whooa’s knockin’ on t’ dooer et this time o’ neet?

 - ‘e’s mekkin a ‘ell ev a din!

Whooaever id is, thur’s summat gone wrong –

‘owd on, mon! Aw’ll led tha in.”


Id wor throwin’ id deawn, an’ t’ streeat lamps wor eaut

An’ t’ wind id wor blowin’ a gale

An’ ‘eaulin’ an’ mooanin’ reaund t’ coorner o’ th’eause

Like a ghooast wi a pitiful tale.


Aw pushed back mi cheeor fro’ t’ coorner bi t’ fire

An’ slipped mi owd clogs on mi feeat –

An’ th’ ammerin’ went on like morther wor dun,

Wi’ a din as wod waken o’ t’ streeat.


Aw shoffled deawn t’ lobby an’ geet t’ t’ front-dooer,

Aw fombled wi’ bolts es wor teet,

But bi pushin’ an’ tuggin’ aw getten ‘em undun,

An’ aw opened t’ front-dooer t’t’ wet neet.


Theer, standin’ on t’ dooer-step, drenched reight through t’ t’ skin –

Baht jacket ner cooat – in o’ t’ wet,

Wor yong Jem McGinty fr’ nex’ dooer bu three –

“Whad’s up, lad? Tha deeath tha’ll shure ged.


‘e stood theer an’ gawked, wi’ ‘is meauth oppen wide,

Es though wards t’ ‘is lips wodn’d coom,

Sooa, aw tooak ‘im bi th’ arm, an’ feyrin’ the wost

Set ‘im deawn in a cheeor in t’ best rooam.


“Neaw, whad’s gooin’ on?” (when ‘e ‘d pooed ‘issel to) –

“Is th’ eause  barnt, ‘r thi dad lost ‘is brass?”

But pluckin’ up courage, ‘e stommered id eaut –

“C-c-con’t l-l-lend us a p-p-ponny fo’ t’ g-g-gas?”



                                                           Mick o’ Pleasington