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In Memory of Earnock Bing my Everest
(The Luge) ©

Part of the great Scottish heritage was the various “Bings” that were left following the closure of mines and pits throughout the country. I was born and brought up at the top of Hill Street in Burnbank, better known as the “Jungle” right at the bottom of Earnock bing, as a wee boy I looked on it as my own personal real estate. Many of the coal miners were pigeon fanciers (doo men) and had their loft out the backyard including my own dad which explains a wee bit of the following tale.

Thomas Matthew Edgar
Melbourne, Australia

"Dedicated to Nancy with the Laughing Face"

Corrugated iron - wae the ends turned up
Blint - wi stoure and shale
Fifty miles an oor at least
Anither on yer tail

Earnock bing my Everest
The biggest bing aroon
Ah climbed ye everyday in life
The tallest in the toon,

Mony's the time I fell aff the tap
Fae aff yer towr’n heights
Broken taes and fingers
Ah should be deid by rights

Cadzow bing it wis’nae bad
But wis’nae near sae steep
Naewhere near the broken bones
Aw’right for grazin’ sheep.

Dae ye mind wee Wullie doon the road
We put him in a tyre
Ah’m shair it wis aff a Chieftain bus,
An’ fae aff yer very spire,

We geid’m sich a hefty shove
He fell oot hauf way doon
He staggert’ roon for hauf an oor
An roon n’ roon n’ roon,

As soon as he could staun at peace
He said “Christ that wis great”,
“Could we dae it agane jist wan mair time”
It wis clear he could’nae wait

So intae the tyre again he went
This time we tied him in
An wi an even harder shove
We sent him for a spin.

Well “Tottie Minto’s” pigeon loft...
Ah’ ken ye’ve guessed already
It, wis quite plain for aw tae see,
‘even tae blind Freddy

Unhappy circumstances wid unfold
and mibbie even mair
A heid oan crash, a lot a stoure
An’ feathers everywhere

Deid doos deid as doddos
died in their loft that day
Like road kill they aw’ lay aroon
Ah guess its fair tae say

We thought the wee bloke doon the road
Wi’ the doos had done his dash
Surprise, surprise, would ye believe,
Fae in amang the trash

A ghostly figure staggert’ oot
An roon n’roon n’roon
He said “Christ that wis bliddy great”
“Ah hope that very soon”

“We dae that agane jist wan mair time”
“This time ah’ll git it right”
At this point ye can guess the rest
Its time to say guidnight

Dear Earnock bing where ur ye noo
Wher’ever did ye go
Scattered to the winds, ah think
Ah’ ken ah miss ye so.

Oh Earnock bing my Everest,
It's time to say fareweel
Ah wont forget ye ever
Fareweel! Fareweel! Fareweel!!!

(A wee efter thought)

For those of nostalgic persuasion
Ah hope ye enjoyed my heart felt reminicince
slidin doon ma Earnock Everest
Oan ma erse…in verse….

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