WHY I LOVE LEIGH
Where to start this tale of Leigh?
At the start or back from me?
Well I’m a Palmer through and through.
At least I thought that that was true.
But when I start to dig around
you won’t believe the trail I’ve found.
Yes I’m a Palmer true to say.
Fruiterers of Leigh Broadway
But I must go back many years
through vales of laughter and of tears
to where my origins are laid
among the coastlines fishing trade.
A Cotgrove is the first to show
though where he came from I don’t know.
Some people say from Holland’s shore,
I really wish that I knew more.
Through several sons named Benjamin
I come at last to Sarah Ann.
Now this is where the bloodlines meet,
James Palmer kneels to kiss her feet.
Now he’s been married once before
but who she was I am not sure.
And so to me the line goes on
for after James there came James John.
He then wed a Johnson, Bess
Jeremiah’s girl no less.
All along the salty sea
runs through their veins and on to me.
Now James John’s son, he broke the mould
and fruit and veg is what he sold.
Mary Kerry was his wife
and both took up the tradesman’s life.
Now their son Ben was my Granddad,
he too began as grocer’s lad.
To Tilly Bridge Ben gave his name.
From fisher folk she also came.
Her father Fiddler, known to all,
my own dear father could recall
His photo shows a kindly man,
his wife a Ford named Mary Ann
Her father though a Leigh man bred,
descends from Maldon town instead.
Her mother came from Thundersley
where Griggs are plentiful you see
But back to Fiddler, Great Grandpa,
his Mum’s name Ritchie goes back far.
An old Leigh name like many more
to which I’m linked through days of yore
Through Osborne, Noakes and Emery
it stretches way way back from me
So when you total up the score
I may be Palmer, but I’m more.
I’m partly all these names, you see
but most of all, I’m part of Leigh.
© CAROLE MULRONEY