A poem by Brian Cummisky.
“Up the Cauther”
Up the Cauther oan a Summer’s day,
Cummiskey’s and Whelan’s came o’or tae play;
Up for a Dook in the manky watter
Then listen tae Tam ‘n’ Morag’s patter.
The whole of Blantir seemed tae be there
Especially during the Glesca Fair.
Aunties, Uncles, Cousins all,
Up the Cauther hivin’ a ball.
Hankies own heids, big red faces,
Troosers rolled up, string vests an’ braces,
Blantir Barneys were evrywhere,
Oot for the day in their underwear.
Tryin’ tae catch baggie’s wae yer wee green net,
Playin’ tig an always being het;
Watching the boys divin’ aff the falls,
Wae their cut up jeans ‘n’ Tarzan calls.
I still recall those golden days,
Up the Cauther in the sunny haze;
I still see the faces, I still hear the patter,
When we went for dooks in the manky watter.
I sit here now by clearer water,
Beside me sits my son’s and daughter;
And I tell them of a summer’s day,
When Cummiskey’s an’ Whelen’s came oot tae play.
By Brian Cummiskey
Photo by Jim Brown
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