My Granny wears her Pearls
My granny wore her pearls against the darkness o’ the day,
she foutered wi’ them when she felt it time for us tae pray
and when my granny heard that I’d been stealing fruit again
she pit her pearls intae a drawer while dishin’ oot her pain.
My granny wore her pearls against the darkness o’ her dress,
she foutered wi’ them a’ the time her mind was in distress,
remembering the time she met the man frae London toun
wha lifted her intae the air then pulled her knickers doon.
My granny walked the miles tae work, her pearls inside her coat,
she worked at cleanin’ buses for the simple things she’d got,
her rent was paid, the hoose was clean, the grass was cut ana’
an’ sometim’s in the summer she’d pit flooers alang the wa’.
My granny wore her pearls when she was ta’en doon the crem’
my mither didna’ want them, she’d had ower much o’ them,
an’ onywaye, my granny had gaun’ aff tae meet her Lord,
wi’ a’ the wealth an’ dignity her struggle could afford.
My granny wears her pearls in that ane picture we still hae,
it’s ower by the winda whaur she looks oot on the day;
I wunner whit she’s thinkin’ sometim’s, when I’m feelin’ doon,
an’ wha the bastard sodger was, wha came frae London toun.
27/1/24