THE BLOXIDGE TALLYGRAPH

by Andrew Perrins

Sum airty years ago in Bloxidge town,

A tale told there is so well known;

About a quaint ode wishin’ tree,

By th’ Bull’s Yed for al to see.

Now a local blade, he did enjoy,

A pint or two upon the sly,

In that said pub within th’ town,

Those quarts of ale, e’ drunk ‘em down.

Now ‘iz wife she was so much vexed,

In fact, she was much perplexed,

To know her bloke went astray,

Drinkin’ each night an every day.

She med a wish so th’ treee would fall

Upon her spouse to stop ‘im all,

From a drinkin’ in that wretched pub,

A curse she uttered upon the shrub.

But th’ tree, it missed an ’it th’ inn

Uzby escaped by th’ thick ov ’is skin,

Now ’is wife, she took it all to art,

An’ on that day she did depart,

‘em say th’ bush is growin’ still,

So do meke a wish if yoh will!

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