Al tell thee best dream av ad
 in any midneet while folk were fast on
 a sees a reet cross tree,
 a ghoast in plated gold
 ringed by shiny moon fascinator,
 jewels like worth summat glow worms
 rahnd base, five more ont cross beam.
 Throngs o’ God’s angels tacked on it. This were no scam artists cross but every heaven spirit and earth folk had peepers on it: a see universe agog

 And me, aware of wrong doing,
 that native wood-beetle, eyed it too
 felt a shiver of glory
 from that cross barkskin beaten gold
 wi jewels suited a cross a Jesus
 and tha knows through all that gold barkskin
 rattled folks bloodless yammering
 how bleeding as stained crosses rightside.
 Harrard an horrored
 a that sullied wi leaked blood.

 a lay there yonks
 in agog sorrow fort Saviourcross
 till me lug oyles heard glimmering cross pipe up:
 “Ages since, I fetch back I were hacked
 dahn at holt-edge, lugged off, hauled
 shoulder heaved, squared top on a hill
 adsed to a cross to carry wrong doers.
 Then I see Christ, his brazen ready fort hoisting. For us there’s no flitting, no shirking on God’s mind to: I might a fell on these folks. Then
 God himsen, med himsen naked, to naked brazen,
 laid on us afore throngs of eyes
 when saving on folks flitted in his bonce.
 A shuddered at his touch, afeard splintering,
 A had hold, I were raised as a cross,
 hold heaven king high, afeard cracking. They tapped dark iron in us: scars tha still can see,
 a cannot bear ’em stroked. They jeered at both on us. A felt his blood seep from his side
 as he sighed himsen upards.

 Av seen pain on this hill
 saw Christ as on vicious rack
 then roilin’ storm clouds, death to sunblaze,
 covered o’er that blaze on God: a glowering gloom creation’s sorta: Christ on cross tree.
 A see folk come forard, a felt splintered
 as if adsed, but gev ne sen.
 I were in their dannies, gore-wet, nail gashed.
 They laid him art, a dead-weight atter ordeal,
 final knackeredness. Then afore
 murderers peepers, those folk med
 a stone oyle and set Christ inside it.
 Then late int day flitted knackered : left
 Christ by himsen.

                               Long atter soldier’s lottery natter and cold rigor on Christ’s limbs,
 us kept our places, drahned wi blood.
 Then they sets to
 felling us,
 bury us in delved grahned, but disciples, friends fahned us…
 put on us barkskin o’ gold an silver.

 so nar tha knows, how sorra warped
 me flesh, how malice worked with splintering iron. Now it’s time for earth foak and whole marvel on creation to cow eye this sign.
 God-son were racked on us, so now ma glimmerin’ haunts heavens, can heal
 all who afeard for us. Am honoured
 by Christ above all forest trees as God favoured Mary above all women folk.’

 Then by mesen, thrilled, overface mesen wi spirit high, let mesen rave that I can seek what a av seen,
 saviour-cross: a peace with mesen that yearns a help on earth. Few mates still livin’ nar : most are int manor on heaven, av fetched upards. Now, daily, I listen art
 fort cross-tree in my earthly nappin’,
 to lead us from this flitting life
 into great manor of heaven
 where God has set a right feast.

 May God-Son and Ghoast be mates, who were nailed to death for folk ages since : a saviour as gin us life, that we may put wood int oyle in heaven.

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