Tommy Stroo’s Ghost by John Charles Twist

Th’ moon wur sheignin’ rare, an’ breet,

An’ stars wur twinklin’ o’er mi heyd,

When aw wur walkin’ deawn th’ owd street,

Wi’ Tommy Stroo’s ghost bi mi seyd.

He wur a queer un, wur owd Tom,

A chap ‘at never cared a pin

For owt ‘at wur under th’ sun,

But drink an’ fun, an’ havin’ his fling.

But neaw he’s deead, an’ laid i’ th’ greawnd,

An’ his ghost comes walkin’ abeawt at neet,

Wi’ a hollow voice, an’ a mournful seawnd,

An’ a face ‘at’s as white as a windin’ sheet.

He tells mi tales o’ th’ owd, owd days,

When we wur lads together, he an’ me,

An’ he laughs at th’ tricks we used to play,

An’ th’ fun we had i’ th’ owd fact’ry.

But when he speaks o’ th’ drink ‘at killed him,

His voice gets low, an’ his een get dim,

An’ he says, “Lad, tek warnin’ bi me,

An’ let th’ drink alone, or it’ll kill thee.”

An’ then he vanishes fro’ mi seyd,

An’ aw’m left alone i’ th’ moonleet breet,

Wi’ a queer feelin’ i’ mi heyd,

An’ th’ seawnd o’ his footsteps i’ th’ street.

From A Lancashire Miscellany of Dialect Verse, published in 1960 as an anthology of 99 dialect poems that were originally printed in the Oldham Chronicle between December 1956 and the end of 1959 and featuring the work of various authors of Lancashire dialect verse including Richard Rome Bealey, Sam Fitton, Edwin Waugh and others.

If you enjoyed this article please consider showing your appreciation by buying me a coffee, every contribution will go towards researching and writing future articles,

Thank-you for visiting,

Alex Burton-Hargreaves

(October 2025)