Aberdeen Voice

For seventy-five years Francis Bay’s insightful, anecdotal and uplifting words have warmed the hearts and enriched the lives of generations of devoted readers. The perfect accompaniment as we journey together through the year ahead, he offers both words of comfort and insightful words of wisdom to share faith hope and love.

This week I am thinking of those long lost and distant delights of yesteryear. The poems of old which delight the heart and warm the cockles of your feet. I well recall those pink rosie days of summer.

A kind lady reader sent this to me just yesterday. Although I cannot reveal Jane Smith’s real name, I think she knows who she is.

This is her lovely poem.

First the silage – By Jane Smith

The nestling of peewits went at first
Praise the Lord, my soul and in the grass they had no chance in both a Welsh and a sort of English sort of voice
But butter wouldn’t melt, if you get my drift

Praise the Lord, my soul
Farmer Psalm page 104
He makes the clouds his chariot all

Rascals and abusive warning
The taking of empowering
Rascals all perhaps

Don’t comment was the warning, we know best, the country ways are best
Then came the shooting of rooks
There will be some bangs said the landlord at the door.

I’ll get the cat in then

Then the old bull went despite that he was supposed to live until autumn
Now steak
I had seen this before

How many are your works?

Psalm 104
Praise the Lord, my soul
Is there still time?

What for he said
Excitedly
I mean, to get the cat in quite soon

Oh thank you said the cat despite the lagging of years
The bull was suspiciously bereft of tongue.

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