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Local Poetry

Harrogate Street  By Cyril Ashurst

There used t'bi a street that stood yond i'th' teawn
'til ceawncil decided as they poo it deawn,
So they made eawt an order at a meetin' one neet
An' bowt up aw th' heawses in Harrogate Street,

Neaw th' foalk as lived theer had to move to some flats,
So they pack't their belungin's an' rowled up their mats,
Then leovin' their whoms wi' their e'en red an' weet,
They made their last trip deawn owd Harrogate Street.

Well th' warkmen soon started t'demolish yon shop
An' i' no time they'd getten aw th' slates stripp't off th' top,
Then they smashed in aw th' windows, aye, even th' fan leet,
T'wur th' begginin' o'th' eend then fer Harrogate Street.

Then they fotch't reawnd a crane hung wi' one o' thoose baws
An' wi' it they hommered away at th' heawse wa's,
An' bi th' time as they'd finish't wark later that neet,
There wurn't one brick stondin' in Harrogate Street.

A loadin' machine coom reawnd th' followin' day
An' wi' it some trucks to tak' th' rubble away,
Aw they left wur a bare petch as didn't look reet,
It's a shame they couldn't leove owd Harrogate Street.

"Wey han t'move wi' progress" the ceawncil did say,
An' that's th' rayson why they took yon street away,
Neaw thoose flats that they'n built that rise nigh eawt o' seet,
They'n not getten hawf o' th' wearmth uv owd Harrogate Street.

Well iv that's th' road o' progress then it's noan fer me
An' Ah'm sure as there's plenty o' yo' who'll agree,
Why should foalk move forrad to things that's noan reet,
Ee, Ah bet some ud like move back t'Harrogate Street.