Ring O’ Clogs

Ring O’ Clogs

A Lancashire Dialect Poem by Anon

What ses Lancasheer to thee,

is it Blackpoo’ by the sea?

Is it wet ond muggy days,

ships on t’Mersey through the aze,

blackpuddings on a plate in’t shops,

is it shawls or whippet dogs,

or is it just the ring o’ clogs.

Tha maybe thinks o’ Pendle ‘ill,

or weivers torning out fray t’mill,

‘appen t’ Rovers or North End,

weekend when tha’s brass to spend.

It’s appen t’pits ond slag ‘eaps grey,

shrimps ond Southport, Morcambe Bay,

or gorse, ond millstone grit ond bogs,

It brings ’em back does t’ring o’ clogs

Th’ owd windmill tall on Lytham Green,

fact’ries and th’ouses in between,

clanging trams and cobbled streets,

t’Market lit wi flares at neets,

Gracie when hoo’s singing “Sally”,

‘Rivington, or t’Ribble Valley,

mill lodges thick wi’newts ond frogs,

mem’ries flood back wi’t ring o’clogs

Brass bands on Sunda’ into t’park,

cooartin’in t’ lamp leet efter dark,

treats on Knucknowles, Whit processions,

“Lakin”, “Witchert”, owd expressions,

these memries rise up sharp ond clear,

when the sound o’clogs Ah’ear,

It sweps away the mist ond fogs,

fray memory, does t’ring o clogs!

Thank-you for reading. If you enjoyed this piece and would like to support further articles on the wildlife and history of the Northwest, you can buy me a coffee here.

Alex Burton-Hargreaves

(September 2026)