Doris Rogers

Doris Rogers

Memories by Doris Rogers

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T’years roll by, time marches on
But t’memories keep returnin’
0′ t’childhood days so long ago
An’ the’ set mi ‘eart a-yearnin’

The’ wor ‘appy days wi’aht a doubt
Carefree an’ full o’ pleasure
Wi simple things wi spent ahr time
What memories ter treasure

The’ wor skippin’ ropes an’ whips an’ tops
Noan o’ them cost varry much
Wi boxes an’ things wi laiked at shops
Wi a pennorth o’ spice, like ‘umbugs an’ such

Wi ‘ed a gret rope swing i’ t’garden
’ng dahn from a big owd tree
Wi’d swing on that from morn till neet
An’ ahr ‘earts wor filled wi glee

In t’summer ahr time wor spent ahtside
Wen t’long ‘ahrs at t’schooil wor ovver
In t’fields wi’d go an’ search arahnd
Till wi fahnd a fower leaf clover

Wi went for picnics aht i’ t’wood
Wi jam sandwiches, pop an’ a bun
Wi all enjoyed that varry much
An’ wi din’t ‘alf ‘ave sum fun

Once a year ther’ wor t’Sunday schooil feast
Wen wi sang ‘ymns an’ walked all rahnd tahn
But sum ov us ‘adn’t gor a musical voice
Soa t’teacher listened an’ looked wi a frahn

Bur it med noa difference, wi still carried on
Cos wi knew that at t’end ther’ wud be
Sum sugary, fruity, long buns
An’ wi ’em sum big cups o’ tea

Then wi entered all t’races i’ t’playgrahnd
Ther’ wor prizes for them ‘at run best
But then it got dark an’ wi ‘ad ter go ‘oam
‘Appy an’ tired an’ in need ov a rest

Slimming by Doris Rogers

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I’ve dun wi’out this an dun wi’out that,
but noan on it semms to get rid of mi fat.
I dreamt I could see misen walking rahnd t’town,
wi’ a sylph like figure, in a smart model gown.

But it didn’t last long, an’ I came down to earth,
cos I went for a new frock, an’ they measured mi girth.
An’ then in despair, I thought I’d get agate,
and try just once more to lose some weight.

Nah mi mate is so thin, and she cannot half eat,
feed as she will she doesn’y gain weight.
Then there’s me, like a sack tied up in t’middle,
and ter me that’s nowt but a bit of a riddle.

We go out for a meal, and she’s tucking in there,
and there’s me sat watching, just tearing mi hair.
She’s got a nice big steak and some chips on a platter,
and here’s me wi’ some thin soup that looks like watter.

Then I thought ’bout summat that I once read,
about an old donkey t