Thursday, 30 January 2014


I wrote the poem about "Wilbur" on a exceptionally windy night of
3rd Oct 2011 when at about 2130hrs whilst driving on the A6070 past
Deerslet on my way back home to Burton.  It was blowing a gale,
and by the headlights of the car I could see spent sycamore leaves
 were being blown across the road and all over the place and the bent
up leaf with its stalk reminded me of a mouse (if not mice).
Lots of Little Wilburs

A once ad a maiss cowd “Wilbur”

Wilbur, is that thee? tha daft beggar,
Why did ti run out in front tu car,
A cud have killed tha, tha nus.

Hay Ek!, tha's a cute little beggar,
Luckin up to mi wi that smile,
Eh an now thas givin meh a wink!
Well, well, have sin it all now.
Tha tails wagging like it might drop off.

Now finish crossin rood Wilbur,
Afore tha gets run ooer.

A lucked in mirror, Oh no!
Of all the places,
A cars gunna tek me!
It ran straight over Wilbur,
Hi never stood a chance,
He was flattened…… eh
What a shame…

Winds strong tonight tha nus,
Its blewing owd sycamore leaves all oer rood
And stalks are stickin up like
Lots of little Wilburs….