The Dandy

Ask anyone in Blantyre
Where is the Priory Plantation?
They’ll hum and haw and hum again
For some form of explanation.

Ask them, “Where’s the Dandy?
And a look comes o’er their face.
There’s nobody Blantyre born
That doesn’t know this place.

This dear green place of old
Lies on the Blantyre Braes,
Just along from where the Villager’s
Used to bleach their claes.

In days of old a path was laid
From Hamilton down to Newton,
Thru’ Blantir to the Pey Brig
Nun’s Walk and Railway Station.

This path was made for workers
Who toiled in Mill and Mine,
And helped them get to work
By bridge or ferry on time.

In spring when hearts awakened
Throbbing in young breasts,
Down this path they would go
Dressed in their Sunday best.

From the Village to the Priory
Along this path they’d stroll,
To meet Laddies or Lassies
In the summer times of old.

So, if you’ve ever wondered
Or perhaps you’ve even guessed,
This place was called The Dandy
Because of the way they dressed.

James Cornfield 2007

~~~

If you have any Poems… Send them to Bill

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