Blantyre Born ‘an bred
I’m a Blantyre boy, born ‘an bred,
Born there, lived there, schooled ‘an wed,
A Strathclyde town, now in Lanark’s “shire”,
Here’s my ‘ain story of little old tyre.
As a boy in the 70s, ah sure loved to see,
Mickeys Café for ice cream and tea,
Soor plums and skulls, saucers and nougats,
It wis the best place for swedgers, ‘an I just loved it!
Blantyre Public park. Wis a sight to behold,
Galas n’ pedalo boats and marches, I’m told,
Who could forget the big paddlin’ pool,
An always wan silly boy in the kids pool, the fool.
70s Summers were warm, hazy and hot,
We played wi hosepipes and cared not a jot,
The Calder falls helped us all cool right doon,
Best wee washplace in this crazy wee toon
Whit about Hastie’s Farm, remember that place?
A disco, a party , the romance an “the chase”,
Blantyre misses you Hasties, come back to us please,
Caspers was 2nd best, and served only to tease.
Before Asda price, oor market wis there,
20 for a quid, get your salt n shake here,
Taits, Collinses, Stepek, we had some class shops,
Not forgettin’ Robertsons, truly top of the pops.
Schools are a changing, knocked down and rebuilt,
To ensure oor ain kids education is fulfilled,
But they’ll never have Calder St or their ain Tyre high,
An that makes us sad, as we let oot a sigh.
Hooses changed too. We didn’t know whit wis in store,
The sha n posh wimpey (which cost a bit more),
Timbertoon and Jerusalem now mature with age
An proves Blantyre still has plenty of grace.
So my dear Blantyre, with pride you move on,
Changing , evolving, merging with “ton”.
We’ll always remember the times that we had,
But we look to the future, Stay put an are glad.
Paul Veverka, February 2012