Little Fan

A poem by Fay Inchfawn

When little Fanny came to town, I felt as I could sing!
She were the sprackest little maid, the sharpest, pertest thing.
Her mother were as proud as punch, and as for I -- well, there!
I never see sich gert blue eyes, I never see sich hair!
"If all the weans in Somerset," says I, "was standin' here,
Not one could hold a candle light, 'long- side our little dear."

Now FANNY'S little Fan have come! She's clingin' round my knees,
She's asking me for sups of tea, and bites of bread and cheese.
She's climbing into grandma's bed, she's stroking grandma's face.
She's tore my paper into bits and strawed it round the place.
"If all the weans in all the world," says I, "was standin' here,
Not one could hold a farthin' dip to Fanny's little dear!"
For Fanny's little Fanny -- oh, she's took the heart of me!
'Tis childern's childern is the CROWN of humble folk like we!

Reader Comments

Tell us what you think of 'Little Fan' by Fay Inchfawn

comments powered by Disqus

Home | Search | About this website | Contact | Privacy Policy