Pearls Of Wisdom Poem by Mark Heathcote

The church doors are closing; it's time to reflect
-on the week gone by. An old lady hunches over aside
-for others close by who wish to pass and say—hi.
Speak the obvious…damn chilly outside.
You should get-off-home m'dear; that old-
man and dog of yours will be all but done for
-alone wanting its leg of mutton the dog,
his butcher's bone. What a sermon that was, eh?
Wasn't-worth half a farthing of anybody's money
-m'dear, never mind my bus fare, I tell you what?
I'm of a mind not to come again next week.
These moss green gravestones are deadly to walk,
look, watch how you go m'dear and-
give my love to your poor old Sis,
tell her I'm thinking of her she's in my prayers.
It's a shame she had to fall down-those-ghastly cellar stairs.
Shouldn't have to do it…at her age…I told her,
I told her…she should have gone electric.
She should have gone to NORWEB Chuck.
But would she listen, would she listen,
would she 'eckerslike'
I've been telling her for years those days of
-filling a coal scuttle is long since gone.
Just thinking about it, now Chuck gives me chilblains
it absolutely fills my heart with tears, not pearls of wisdom.