W. T. Quirk – Manx Poet & Writer

Do thou know about Ossy an’ Mary
Were farmin’ the crof’ Ballanad?
Aw, I laughed till me bones was all ...

Theer’s no such thing as convarsion thou’re sayin’?
An’ it’s only a lot of oul’ boghned this prayin’?
Well, maybe ...

When the summer day is over
An’ its busy keers hev flown
I sit me on the promenade
An’ think ...

Now, Willie the Gimlad’s mother
Was keepin’ a shop in Glenmaye,
Theer wasn’ out theer such another
So jesh, an’ ...

His place was in the warehouse. There he stood
Beside the counter, scoop in hand, and weighed
Out sugar in ...

Is it bonfires tha’s in? Well, I navar!
It seems only yesterday
I was sayin’ “Go away!”
To the childer ...

They’re tellin’ the childer far too arly
The truth about oul’ Santa Claus.
Tho’ it’s hard to say these days ...

I can tell ye, masthar, it’s a sight
On a summer day
If thou’re sitting on a seat on the ...

Wha’s that ye say?
Only five of them lef’ today?
Five? An’ wan time theer were sixteen!
Sixteen of the ...

Aw, well, it’s like it had to be
Sooner or later;
Things is eether gerrin’ bigger or smaller,
Shorter or ...

Music thou’re sayin’? A recital? Aw, bless me sowl
Thou navar h’ard such rampagin’
Theer was at this fella,
As ...

Aw, man, the lek was navar seen before.
What majesty an’ graciousness thallure!
Deed, yis; an’ if I live to ...

Hev ye avar been to Ballacorris
In the chapel down the lane,
When the winders are all stuffed with marras,...

I’m thinkin’ the Jumble Sale Saison
Is on us again.
For I’m seein’ notices all over the place.
I suppose ...

The Annicumvarsary? Aw, yis,
I went an’ all, I did.
I wouldn’ miss
Seein’ all the childer on the stages ...

‘Deed yis though, that’s the place
To see many a half-forgotten face –
Wheer? Why, at the cattle-show:
An’ I ...

I wouldn’ ha’ gone but a falla said “Right!
Ye’re comin’ to our Eisteddfod to-night!”
“Wha’s that then?” I axes, ...

The fus’ time I seen Laxa Queeyl
Was sixty year ago or more,
When I was tuk in a moty-car ...

T.T., is it? I axes; aw, well now,
Tha’s the way to be, isn’t it?
Tha’s the rale comeallyer;
Tha’s ...

Wheneva I sup dandelion an’ burdock
I’m always mindin’ days spent at the feer;
When in a roundabout with Taffy ...

Grievanagh, yessir, the wonders tha’s in.
Not lek the days when I was a stugga before,
When if ye wanted ...

The smell of wormwood takes me back a bit,
For in July an’ Augus’ years ago
I used to see ...

The sun was shinin’ powerful gran’
Upon the st’amer at the pier,
An’ all the people in the lan’
Seemed ...

So thou are purtendin’ to be a fool
An’ askin’ me what are stocks?
Well, now, don’t they larn thee ...

Did ye navar hear tellin’ of Willie?
The Gimlad they’re callin’ him too;
The sharp that he is, aw, not ...