I’ve been thinking about how words are edged out of our lives. My son was recently marked down for using ‘kids’ instead of ‘children’, and I can’t imagine anyone being encouraged to write t’other. Even my spellchecker scribbles an angry red line beneath it.

And yet I love the sound of local speech. I love how it can place us in a location as effectively as any description of landmarks. I’ve given talks about using ‘local words’, encouraging children to listen to how they and others actually speak and to celebrate it.

So here’s my lesson idea: read the poem below and mark out words which don’t seem ‘right’. Look up words you don’t understand and then try re-writing the poem so that it sounds grammatically correct. How has the poem changed? Make a list of pros and cons for the two versions.

Next, write your own. Go fer walk and notice stuff. You can do this in any part of the world. My poem is set in Lancashire, but yours can be anywhere—or even in more than one place. Listen to the way people speak and replicate it to give an aural picture of your journey. If you research local dialects from around the country then you might take us on a grand tour.

Walking o’er Lancashire
I went fer walk and didn’t stop
‘cos Lanky looked a beaut.
It had them parks wi’ singing larks
and trees all full o fruit.

I liked as how the towns spread out
like petals on the breeze,
and how the chimneys sat forlorn
all trying not to sneeze.

I liked the markets in the squares
wi’ folk all millin’ through,
and ‘ow their tungs were wagging loose
wi’ gossip old and new.

And so over t’ills t’other mills
where sun set like a rose,
I walked the walk and talked the talk
us Lanky kids all knows.

In Chorley I dun stopped to eat
in Preston stopped to drink
in Blackpoo’ then I stopped me feet
and sat down just to think.

I thought of t’other places near
and some quite far away,
‘cos Lancashire is one deep breath
Milnrow t’ Morecambe Bay.

I thought of ‘ow we liked us chips
and posh food on our plate,
like sausage and black pudding
and eggs to mek it great.

But there are other things I love
like nothing has us beat,
how even in the worst o times
we’ll smile and say “aw reet?”

And there are plenty times like these
when weather turns for worse
but now I know the way to cope
is writing me own verse.

And so I med me way back home
and told me dear old mum
“I’ve seen the whole wide world I ‘ave:
by ‘eck and ’ee by GUM!”