Mi Mam & the Curate

Monologue

 

Mi Mother wuz lookin all languid

She’d just come home from down t’pit

She’d taken er knittin and a nice cup o’ tea

To an armchair where she’d have a good sit.

 

She wuz sittin we’t feet up all comfortable like

When a noise came a’ bangin at door

“Oh now, what is that?” she said in a pet

And oe’r t’cat tripped full length on the floor.

 

Now the language it wuz kind o’ mucky

You’d never heard such things in your life

There wuz uffin and cussin and flamin and wot.

And the air you could cut with a knife.

 

There wuz effin and jeffin and language

That wud crimson a publicans ear

Til she opened the door and standin just there

Was the curate who’d just come to see her

 

Over a matter to do wit Women’s section

Of which she took such a pride

And the problems of which, she solve in a flash

Or else generally took all in her stride.

 

But this time she couldn’t for sake of it

Standin there all wet and drippin

All covered in tea and cat and stuff

Keepin Curate standin and sniffin

 

And all she could do in situations like this

Cos’ she wuz all oe’ercome and coy

Was shut door straight in’t young curates face

As they shouldn’t ave sent such a boy

 

 

 

 

To see her dishevelled and mucky and such

Whatever would women’s section all say

With her and her pinny and curlers wit language they’d heard

Her temper ud cause an affray

 

 

Now curate e’ left in a dudgeon

Which was wrong for a man of the cloth

And e’ stopped just in’t road, beside our front gate

and quietly dust himself off

 

Mi Mam ad just sat down for tea once again

When a commotion it started outside

She went to window to see what wuz up

In time to see a man runnin up t’drive

 

“Whatever’s to do?” she said opening door

She could see that the man he wuz shocked

And observed the man he wuz handsome and nice

Whilst at the same time straightenin her frock

 

The man he blurt out all at once

It wuz difficult to ere what e’ said

“There's been a terrible accident” he mumbled

“And I think your poor animals dead”

 

“Wot animals this,” said mi mother

Thinkin of the cat still inside

“Yer big dog all black wi a white collar”

After some moments the man he replied

 

“There no dog wi a collar ere” mi Mam said

“black, white nor any other”

“You’d best look again my young man

And your description it needs to be fuller”

 

“Oh no!” said the man lookin paler and shocked

It’s only just now that I’ve seen it

“What’s done wot is done and I’ll go straight to hell

Cos I’ve only just run oe’er curate!”

 

With apologies to Marriott Edgar

 

 

Reviews

[emmajoy]

Apologies for this rather late review and how I wish I'd read this before because I've laughed all through it!

What a character you've displayed here, Mam in all her glory and un-glory! The wording is soooo fine, so much fun.

I could 'hear' it, 'hear' every word .. well - I was reading aloud .. you've used your skill to transcribe language into readable dialect for your readers.

Thank you Ken, for yet another great piece of writing, the twist at the end is fantastic!

[Vallerie]

I fell into the brogue of it all and imagined me self as the one atalking it through. Bravo

[Poeticpiers]

No Apologies required the man himself would have loved it A masterly monologue
A form of narrative poetry of which I am inordinately fond

[Donald Meikle]

gorrit first read.She's safe with the wimmin's section though.

[Pamela]

Oh brilliant. In the true tradition of the monologue. I love it. Modern poetry is great and very clever but there's nothing better than a monologue for a good laugh.

The dialect is very well written, a difficult thing to do and, apart from a couple of glicks, I could understand it perfectly. It sounds wonderful when read out loud.

Thank you. I hope there's more to follow.

[Whitney Mitchell]

terribly amusing and very well done.