Oan the left o’ the auld ferme road,
Jist before the turn fir Newton,
A car park entrance sae underused,
Easily missed ‘an hidden.
Ye park yir motor, pit on yer jaicket,
Doon the red chipped path ye saunter,
Till ye arrive in a big open space,
Wi brick seats ye sit n ponder.
Thon sandstane quarry, noo a loch,
Tae walk yer dugs aroon,
Well kept bridges n fences alike,
Unusual fir this toon.
Weans oan bikes, fleein around,
Wi not wan care at all,
Auld birch trees, n young wans tae,
Widden fences tae stoap ye fallin.
Blantyre’s parks are gettin smaller,
The buildings on them, gettin taller
Oot come they swings, cos o costs
Orders aff some coouncil boss.
It’s oor latest park, this wans fir keeps
Wi a promised second phase,
Lets aw love oor new green spaces,
‘an keep the hert in this place.
Paul Veverka- jan 2013
Featuring Blantyre Project Social Media with permission. Strictly not for use by others on or offline, our visitors said:
Marion Jones Awe this is brilliant
John Cunning The quarry claimed the life of a young man called ronald graham years ago
John Cornfield Written in the auld Blantir dialect. Copyright applies Paul.
Jessie Caldow Nicely done Paul
Pamela Kelly Ducie Used to play in that quarry – everyone would balance on a raft (old door) till it would sink, submerge and shoot through the air across the quarry with everyone clinging on screaming our heads off – don’t think our parents would have bern amused
Linda Price Great place to walk my dogs!
John Mcquade Where I learned to swim 50 years ago