The Milkman’s Wife
Old hag death
Came trundling down.
Sing to me a lightsome song,
We love her not
Though she does no wrong,
Sing to me a love song.
She took the milkman’s
Wife away,
0 sing to us a keening,
Tears in the chink
Of the bottles that day.
0 sing to me a sad song.
Why old bitch
Did you take her hand,
0 tell us what’s your meaning,
She’d done no harm
And she hadn’t lived long,
0 sing a song with feeling.
There is no reason,
There is no rhyme
And I’m bloody well coming
In my own good time,
That’s what I do be singing.
That’s what the old bag’s singing,
That’s what the old hag’s bringing.
© Anne Le Marquand Hartigan 1982
From Long Tongue published by Beaver Row Press 1982
©2024 Anne Le Marquand Hartigan