My Pride
(“There’s nowt so queer as Folk”)

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(Prompted by my Daughter performing at the Queen Elizabeth Hall, London, Southbank)

My Grandmother who raised me
Had a siren call
Whenever I showed some confidence,
Warned: “Pride comes before a fall”.

Over the years I’ve done my best
To keep my Pride in check.
But last night I gave up trying
And thought Oh what the “Heck”.

My lovely daughter, now woman grown
Out of the blue is asked to sing before a thousand
With a band, just her alone.

It was to celebrate a singer Sandy
Who wrote songs and drank a lot,
Fell down some stairs, and did it twice
Died, probably from a clot.

‘Twas Thirty years ago
Yet fans still idolise:
Placing flowers on her grave
Her story to romanticise.

And my dear daughter, it was her special day
Reminded me when she was Five
And I watched her play Mary
In the school nativity play.

Now, seated high up in the stalls
She seemed so far below.
This lovely woman singing there
With smiling face and long blonde hair
My daughter I did not know.

For remembering my Grannies words,
Oh how I tried,
To think of her as Artist, not Daughter,
And so suppress my Pride

Granny would have been Proud of me
(If she could do such wrong!)
For I was really doing very well
Least, till that third great song.

It was a real barnstormer
A passionate powerful piece.
She sang with heart and soul aflame
Igniting something inside me, it has no name.
I forgot the rule
My whole body sizzled,
As I lost my cool
And electricity was released.

Now, I see why Granny warned me.
Pride’s more than just a warming hug.
It completely took me over
Like some hardly legal drug.

I drowned in bliss and joyful tears
My little girl, grown now and full of years.
Last night, as she sang to a receptive crowd
She made her father, very proud.

But moderation in all things
As Granny used to say and think.
Especially of topics
Such as fun and sex and drink.

But she like me was Yorkshire.
Had she been at the show
She’d surely had to joke
When seeing the harp playing "tranny"
Wearing frock and hobnail boots:
“By gum, There’s nowt so queer as Folk”

Richard Epworth, December 5th 2008

 

 
 

Last updated 2009-05-09