An ode to the Stone(d) Walling Group
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An ode to the Stone(d) Walling Group
Oh, the joys of the Stone Walling Group,
We’re easy to spot, we all walk with a stoop.
With fingernails smashed, and badly bruised toes,
Just why do we do it? Well, nobody knows.
But at least twice a month we sneer at the weather,
And head for the back of beyond, all together,
With coffee and biscuits and butties and buns
To re-pair the damage sheep do with their bums.
Through Spring and Summer and bright Autumn hue,
A stone on your thumbnail can turn the air blue.
But all of us wallers are resilient types,
Can put up with language more strident than ‘cripes’.
Our lasses are just as adept as the men
At laying a stone or, sometimes, even ten!
They all know their ‘throughs’ from their ‘tracers’ and such,
And are up on the jargon ‘old hands’ use so much.
Months of hard toil, under skies cold and grey,
Endows one with virtue – and crushed vertebrae!
I jest not, there are times our whole bunch looks glum,
When you’ve put up a metre, you’ve shifted a ton!
It’s not all hard labour, and soon comes the day
When mattocks and crowbars are all put away.
There are smiles on the faces of our merry band
As a glass, not a hammer, appears in the hand.
The last day on site, you forget all the pain
As out comes the cider, the beer and champagne
We toast to our efforts, raise glasses, say “Cheers!”
To a wall that will stand here a good hundred years.
© Tim Gill 2005
Submitted by Tim Gill