POEM

BEN BRIERLEY (1825-1896).

When I wrote my first dialect poem

The critics said ‘take more spelling lessons;

We think you’ve got dyslexia.’ Back home

I cried all night, and searched for the reasons

Behind Brierley’s success. Manchester’s

Famous ‘dyslexic’ poet, with an inn

Named after him, which sells beer to punters

Who know little of their poet’s rhymin’.

From his pub-sign, Ben’s pen swings in the wind,

As he dreams up one last verse; but there’s

No more dr(ink) for him .... I am determined

That one drunkard will think of him, so here’s

To you Ben. Di’lect’s lost on me, but cheers.

 

Arthur Chappell.

 

Notes – Commercially, this has been my most successful poem to date – it was the first poem I got into print, and I have sold it at least five times to date. A full list of my publications is online at PUBLICATIONS  For a review of Ben Brierley's work see http://arthurchappell.me.uk/book.review-ben.brierley-spring.blossoms.and.autumn.leaves.htm

Arthur Chappell 

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