This loosely based upon a family story handed down. One more of my story/poems . So some parts will be in poetry form , other parts in prose form.
MY IRISH GREAT GRANDMOTHER
My great grandmother was Irish, of the south
Her father sold horses and pony's, he had a daughter unwed
Bridget her name
My great grandfather was of North Wales, Victorian, old school
A trader of horses and pony's owned one farm, (a ranch), rented a second
One day he decided to take a wife a colleen, had taken his eye
Bridget fitted what he had in mind
A smile so bright and worm, a ready laugh, a girlish giggle
Her father, thought ; '' 'I'll cure her of all that nonsense! ''
'' See if I don't!"
Her hair so aburn, how her hair flew with the breez, the sun, red
Eyes, as blue as the sky above in Spring and Summor
The shul Bridgit mamy had croched for her darling collean, with - so much
Coulor, showd off her auburn hair so well
He decided she'd do for his wife
He told her father, of his wish to marry his daughter
The father, listened to the trader, at length
'' Well I'll have a word with Bridget, I'll see what she says ''
'' She'd do what I tell her! ''
'' It will cost you a dowry, thee knows! ''
'' I''ll see thee right, when I return ''
'' Right next time your hear I'll let ye know ''
The father had a talk with Bridget, she was not over keen
He were as fat as a pig, stank like one too, not that much of a catch in looks
Worth a bob or two in his bank account
Now, Bridget, had been seeing, secretly, been courted by Kieran, a darling man
Kieran, was tall dark and so handsome, other lads, were envious
Some were to be honest damned right jealous of his good looks
He sang how sang, Kieran could charm the very birds from the trees
Even the cows, and sows, come to that
Bridget, to could sing, both sang together, in duet, falling in love
Day by day
They'd dance, Bridget, would dance as Kieran sang his songs
Some were his own, he sang as he courted Bridget
Then he'd ask Bridget to sing, then Kieran would dance to the song she sang
Deeper and deeper in love day by day
'' NO , DA , NO DA '' '' I CANT, I WONT MARRY THAT PIG OF A MAN ''
For Bridget loved another, Kieran as bye now you know
Bidget, could not tell her father this, for Kieran worshiped at the '' wrong ''
Church, never the twain could wed, her father could not, would ever allow
'' LOOK YOU ARE MY DAUGHTER '' - '' I AM YOUR FATHER! '' '' AND YOU WILL DO
AS I TELL YE! ''
Then, Bridgets father, with his anger spent said: '' Look, Bridget '' - '' you will be better of away from old Ireland ''
'' Not so long ago the hunger took your mammy '' '' she died giving birth to ye ''
'' The hunger, could come back '' - '' I can nay look affter ye like I should ''
'' You must go with him, make the best of it, my darling girl ''
Time passed, the time had come for the expectant husband to be
to go back to Ireland to get more
Stock, and find out the decision, was he going back with a wife on his wagon?
With him, he had a hundred sovereign in silver coins, the dowry
Duly he met the father, after due niceties, the Welshman, got down to
Business '' so what's it to be? '' '' Aye, Bridget, will be thees wife ''
The Welsh man duly handed over the hundred silver sovereigns
'' I recon that will meet with your acceptance '', the father counted
'' Aye that will do '' - '' now you look affter Bridget '' - '' aye that I will ''
Bridget, reluctantly climbed on board the waggon sat beside her husband to be
Kieran, were in her mind, there farewell were full of tears, Bridget, sobbed
Her hart breaking, a woman had not the freedom to love as her hart decided
As Kieran was of the '' wrong '' church, Bridget, was left with no option
Bridget, sat quiet, no more tears to shed, those remained deep inside her
They wed, bore him two daughters and four sons
Her husband were a brute of a man, a very Victorian, that kind of man,
Husband and father, the bible said it were all right to hit his wife
It even said the width of the stick to hit her with
As for children, well, seen but never heard
Then one morning, as the family sat at the kitchen table at breakfast
Joe, one of the sons (later to be my grandfather) spoke
All at the table went quiet, a deathly hush took over kitchen
Jo's, father, grabbed a log intended for the kitchen
From a sitting posture, leapt up onto the kitchen table
The laid about Joe, with a log, intended to be for the kitchen
That night, his mother Bridget, gathered six children, four sons, two daughters
And fled to Leigh, in Lancashire, deciding, that poverty would do
In those days, divorce was unattainable, for a woman in poverty
The law was only for men, wife's had no rights, not initialled to make
A claim for financial support from her husband
Bridget chose poverty, took in washing, worked in cotton mills
To support her children, and lastly her self, so often she went hungry
The children eat
They were clothed, fed, keep a roof over their heads
Great Grandmother, Bridget, work her self to death looking after children
My great Irish grandmother, brought an end to family violence, committed,
Aginst wives, and children
Great granny Bridget, though we never met, I know you all the same
I LOVE YOU
Kenny D Williams
The Dyslexic Wordsmith Ov Thanet
Poetry by ken d williams
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Written on 2013-06-19 at 16:49
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