Tis neet ah reach warily otop o’ t’ bedside cabinet, t’ candle burns, plumin upward eur spiral teur t’ ceilin i’, witherin degrees o’ warmth ‘n fla. Ah pea o’a intoa eur ‘alf opened drawa is uz daisy still theear, for shi ‘as neya petals enny mooar, shi is eur dusty circle ‘a rebirths av long gone shi is neya longa attached. Ah picked ‘a petals o’a t’ years i’ ‘n art o’ eur nivva endin search for uz love. Ah’m naw a sen neya music i’ uz noggin neya dance doa ah move ta ah’m i’ elderly state ‘n eur nocturnal lonely owd beast t’ longings conspire ta dawn eur final curteeam. Bur for naw ah id’ ontoa t’ veils o’ uncertainty as uz petals slipped fra daisies ‘eart, therefooar ahl close t’ drawa summa’ else will tek o’a. Ah shut mine een ‘n trust t’ ensuin black neet. Ta tek uz wheear it ‘as ta tarreur daisy flowa o’ ‘earts divine.
Tis night I reach warily atop of the bedside cabinet, the candle burns pluming upward a spiral to the ceiling in withering degrees of warmth and flow. I peer over into a half opened drawer, is my daisy still there for she has no petals any more she is a dusty circle her rebirths have long gone she is no longer attached. I picked her petals over the years in and out of a never ending search for my love. I am now alone, no music in my head no dance do I move to, I’m in elderly state and a nocturnal lonely old beast, the longings conspire to dawn a final curtain, but for now I hold onto the veils of uncertainty as my petals slipped from daisies heart. Therefore I will close the drawer something else will take over I shut mine eyes and trust the ensuing black night to take me where it has to goodbye daisy flower of hearts divine.
Tha needs to work on thi punctuation, Mason. ‘Owever, I can remember pickin’ daisies wi’ thi back in Turker’s Wood. We ‘ad to get daisies that beast ‘adn’t trodden on, an’ blathered up.
I remember pickin’ a great big one and sayin’, ‘Ay up, Mason, there’s a reet biggun ‘ere an’ I’ve picked t’petals off and it says tha luvs me!’ Tha said, ‘By tha’s a stupid mare. Yon’s a bloomin’ dog daisy!’ So I said, ‘Tha’s reet, bloody dog luvs me!’
Any’ow Mason, whilst we’re ont’ subject of flowers, what were them red roses doin’ in our wedding bouquet?