Ma Mam  
by Jenny S Stewart

 Ma man’s e best at ivver wiz, she means e world till me,
She’s no fit ye’d ca’ very beeg (she stans ‘boot five-feet three)
Mind, good things come in little bulk, e Lord sure did condense
An awful lock o’ good bits making mam, spared no expense.

 Hur feyssie hez a lock o’ lines at run wan intil ithur,
We gave thum till hur, growin up, spared no a thocht for mither,
Hur smile is lek a breyth o spring, hur eyes a grey/blue/green,
Hur nose is lek a fleshy blob e roundest ane ah’ve seen.

Hands hur treyde-mark, sma an chubby, ready for till lend
Till help hur friends oot o e bit, hur goodness kens no end,
In workane duds, a hommly mam a set for workane day,
Boot fan she’s toffed up, boy oh boy, she’d cause some heyds till sway.

 Mind, dinna think she disna lowse oot fan e need is ere,
Thur’s no chiel barks lek ma mam diz fan ah get in hur hair,
Hur nostrils grow beeg fan she’s wild an broos can look richt cross,
A reprimandin’s still dished oot till let ye ken she’s boss.

 Thur’s none on earth could take hur pleyss though, widna lek till pert
Wi ma owld mam for anything, so bless hur gret beeg hert,
An let hur live till be owld wifie here among us all,
Ah’ll thank e Lord for sendin Mam, ma finest ivvur pal.