Sarah by Julia Fenton Gilbert

Sarah

Sarah hated Paisley - she dinnae like the folk
She didnae like their manners or even the way they spoke

It wisnae the house in a tenement, she'd lived like that before
But that was at Saltcoats and that was by the shore.

This was a busy town covered in reek and smoke
These folk worked hard, played hard and aye enjoyed a joke

What they had to laugh at these sturdy working folk?
Their men were idle their weans barefit, nae meal in the poke

Sarah had just been widowed, this wisnae a happy time
This filling in of forms and standing there in line.

At this office and that office to your right to claim
A ten-shilling widow's pension, and coppers for the weans.

"I didn't lose my husband, he took ill and died
There's the death certificate.  Don't you say I lied."

These folk knew best, at least that's what they thought
You didn't contradict them, you took what you got.

So Sarah hid her anger and yes, her sorrow too
You didn't talk to the neighbours that wasn't the thing to do

If only she had known they knew just how she felt
Yes their troubles were different and troubles never melt
Unless you put the kettle on and open up the door
With a cup of tea and toast the poor aye help the poor.

So Sarah crossed the landing and went to the open door.
It was brave of her to forget her pride and join the world once more

There was chat and there was laughter as they lifted up their cups
The talk was funny - mair about doons than ups.

They could sing a song and say a rhyme, naebody tried to win
Naebody was perfect just sisters under the skin

Then back to the cleaning and cooking
And maybe a rest in the chair wi naebody looking

Sarah hated Paisley, but grew tae thole the folk
She didnae mind their manners, she knew just how they spoke
Should there be a meaning to these scribbled lines
Meet the folk halfway, it takes just half the time