A cold, dark night, December time
The Geordie Stephenson was closing down
Finish ya drinks, was shouted three times
The bell was ringing behind the bar
‘Gannin’ for chips, before ya bus’
‘Don’t think I have time’
‘Divvent worry man, ye will catch it nay fuss’
‘Aye, but it’s a three mile walk back to mine’
So out of the doors, into the air
Breathing a mist, to prove life was there
Sure enough, before my eyes
The last bus went flying, oh what a surprise
Looked in the chippy, a seven man queue
Decided to start the three mile now due
Slipping and sliding my way through the night
Next time I leave early, I will! Aye, right
Two miles down the way, there is a pit heap
And a Peel Tower hidden in a farm
Perched at the top, so home could be seen
Well, the roof could, in the moon’s gleam
Heading on down, silhouetted by snow
Another was climbing the bank
One step forward, another two back
The man determined but not on the go
Reaching his side I asked how he was
‘Am fine, I will climb up this thing’
If it kills me, I will be here in the morning
Are ye gannin home to the Ford
‘Whey Im gannin to the Ford
It’s a place I love, and call home
Ah ye belong to the Valley of Kings
Never let that thought start to roam
Can't beat a chippy on a cold night after the pub! I think I'd have stood in the queue.😆
Winter in the North East. A seasonal delight