Crabbin
We never saw them catch nor
Boil alive them harbour crabs
They serve round here
With salad and a lemon slice
But boy you could hear em
Sing n squeal in the copper pan
Back in the yard, back in the day
Saw loads on em n lobster too
All harvested in old rope pots
And one or two were hand-lined in
By city kids on day school trips
Then sold on, from harbour walls
For maybe a few bob perhaps
The missus, she had moule to start
That’s what the French call mussels
Dont’cha know, then cod n chips
All washed down with a mug of tea
You can beat an egg, but ya just can’t
Beat a good cuppa these days she say’s
While Brulee, that’s the pup I mean
Not some posh pie knocked back her
Marshfield Farm doggie pud before I
Even started mine
Whelks, I had I must be slowin down
Or getting old, maybe both, I smiled
Seabreeze n Salty Nutz both fishin
Boats bobbed a gentle swaying dance
Upon the harbour swell, near naked
Minus mast n sail they were
Made us both near blush they did
Ah’ yes, the sight, n smells and taste of it
Did make I smile again, just knowin
All was well and we could all be back
Next week n do it all again ........
- Author: Neville ( Offline)
- Published: August 11th, 2020 00:29
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 40
Comments4
Those were the days.
I remember we went down to Ramsgate one day with the family. On the way back we stopped in a park to have a picnic. We had bought a jar of whelks at the seaside and opened them. My Uncle Herb started chewing one but was struggling so he took his false teeth out put a whelk between them and said "Now eat the bloody thing!"
Andy
Ha... we had an uncle Herb too so we did.. his name was Len ... thanks for the visitation my friend.. tis good to share, innit 🙂
Yes it is good to share, he was never called Herb it was always 'erb!
He was my mothers brother, there were six of them, three men and three women in the Terry clan. His full name was Herbert George Guillemont Terry. Never did find out why his name recalled a battle in the first world war.
........................... Blimey.. national pride maybe ..
A fine write Neville.
................ thanks my little squiggle of a friend 🙂
Memories of yesteryear happenings poemed so clearly in readable slang reminded me of screams from boiled crabs and young tears of anger when city-folk laughed - - I so wanted to free them and took years to like crabmeat - c'est la vie eh ? - -- you paint the scene perfectly Nev...........x
Thank you Fay.. I kind of liked the journey these words took me to, too.. Twas West Bay the day before yesterday that inspired em ...... and yes, I did enjoy my crab salad n chips I must say ....
Neville
Yes I also recall those bygone days of sea food stalls and seaside boxes of crustaceans ready for the pot - you forgot the winkles which we used to gather at Southend and bring back for Mum to prepare - vinegar and a pin - the memories.
Thank you Michael... aye, memories ....
... on the subject of winkles, I had them for the first time in many years last summer ... got em from Burnham on Sea and was bitterly disappointed ... had crab today tho from West Bay .. yummy 🙂
Yes it's years since I had them and I guess they wouldn't taste the same.
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