Whistling Women – Poem

This is one of a series of poems, written by my Grandmother, that represent a portrait of her childhood in Thomas Hardy’s Wessex, places and people she loved who are, for the most part, no longer with us.

She dedicates each and every poem to her daughters, and has kindly given me permission to share them with you all, enjoy…

 

Whistling Women

‘Whistling women and crowing hens,

All want their heads chopped off.’

I was informed, so many times,

By an old man who came

Each year in summer from the Channel Isles

To work for us, throughout our busy time

 

He was a big old man, quite rough

Who all his life had earned

A living as a labourer.

He knew he should not swear

When I was present, but of course, often

He would forget. Whistling set his teeth on edge.

 

I sometimes wonder what became

Of him. He was a part

Of that rich childhood that I spent

Mostly upon the land,

And I can never hear a cockerel crow,

Without a whistle pursing up my lips.

 

© Dorothy Davis-Sellick 1998 onwards

 

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1 Comment

Filed under Meet The Family, Other Folks Writings That I Like, Poem Of The Week, Poetry

One response to “Whistling Women – Poem

  1. Kumar Gautam

    nice one and I am whistling too..

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