'Bonny lad' in the mackem area of the northeast used to be quite enigmatic. On the one hand, it was a friendly term of address, but with a glare and change of tone, there is no disguising the threat level. In this case it is the former. The poem represents many of the evenings spent at home in the late fifties early sixties.
Bonny Lad
Lock the door bonny lad,
we’re gannin neewhere else t’neet,
the wind’s blowin’ a gale outside,
like banshees out for the divil’s ride.
Safe and warm inside bonny lad,
Nowt ter drag us into the street,
bank the fire up with good steam coal,
me man’s late evenin’ final role.
Not a neet for the club bonny lad,
save that for a weekend treat,
anyway there’s a good programme on the telly,
patience man there’s summat warm for yer belly.
Put the kettle on bonny lad,
we’ll have a cuppa and summat sweet,
haway son, bed, its school tomorrer,
yer can read the libry books yer borrow.
Night night God bless, bonny lad,
love you with every heartbeat,
sweet dreams and peaceful
rest always,
with you until the end of wer days.
©David L Atkinson October 2024
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