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 the gypsy poet

the ole newtown


when as a boy i ran the heaths
      of can-ford and Manning's road
      i was a wild n sensitive child
      with energy to spare n a runny nose

      i rabbited upon lodge hills
      with my ferrets in my purse
      i climbed the trees
      scraped my knees
      though i never ever cursed

      the heaths were full of heather then
      rhododendron bushes bloomed
      there were rushes at waterloo estate
      lots and lots yellow furze n broom

      the birch trees and pines were high n full
      of needles and some squirrels
      tragaren planted the pines for us
      lady guest lived on the moors

      the gypsy children had some dogs
      i had a dozen too
      there were cockerels in the hen house
      going cock a doodle doo

      the pigs were sows n boars as well
      the cowshed was stacked high
      there was hay bails in the pig styes
      knobby what-ton rang his bell
      you could hear the bacon fry

      the truant officer waterman
       was always calling
      from branksome heath fine school
      cause i was out a climbing trees
      instead of being at school

      i ran the high hills of lodge
      the tracks of wallisdown
      my granfer was a rogers
      they sorta ran the ole newtown




  







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