January 6th is the feast of The Epiphany, also known as the Twelfth Day of Christmas, and I find myself writing about it in a different way each time it comes around.

I’m left wondering why I’m so drawn to this story and why I feel it’s under celebrated in our western world. My first tale in Consett Magazine was a memory of my London family being wound up by three locals in a pub close by. (1)

Next was the recall of my children’s – especially my younger daughter’s – interpretation of the carol, ‘We Three Kings’. (2)

And my third attempt reflected on how different cultures and countries celebrate the day, seeing its observance as important as Christmas Day itself, with close reference to Irish traditions. (3)

Perhaps I’m enamoured with the feast day’s universal message of hope, which is meant for everyone.

This year I’ve done something a little different. While my offering is most definitely based on scripture, and Matthew’s Gospel, it’s written with a geet big dollop of poetic licence!

Kings Gan Canny

When the bairn was born in a stable,
Herod was the king,
The three lads from the east arrived,
and asked to be let in,
‘We saw a canny star last night,
just like the bottle of broon,
we’ve been to Fenwick’s sale as well,
while we were in the toon!’

Whey, Herod wasn’t happy,
In fact he got geet radgie,
‘Gan and find that little bairn!’
said the old bad tempered gadgie.
He said ‘Had on’ and shook their hands,
which felt a wee bit clammy,
‘You betta bring the babby back,
make sure that you gan canny’

The lads set off with their flasks and bait,
They were very far from hyem,
with a reet lang way to gan man,
to get to Bethlehem!
Yet the geet bright star, it guided them,
to where the bairn was lying,
They got there safe and sound that neet,
without hardly even trying!

His Mam and Dad were proud as punch,
putting the kettle on the stove,
The lads brought all their presents in,
Myrrh, Frankincense and Gold.
They were clammin with the hunga,
so they ate up all their bait,
then hoyed the ‘z’s’ out through the neet,
as it was getting late!

The three lads had the same bad dream,
telling them, they mustn’t stay,
So they quickly looked on Google maps,
to gan yem, another way.
They weren’t that struck on Herod,
They’d seen him down the club,
He sometimes called the Bingo,
And he wasn’t very good!

They said goodbye and hurried out,
travelling back to where they lived,
Told the world about a baby king,
who lay swaddled in a crib.
News got out that the kings had gone,
Now Herod, he was stottin’,
He told his mates to do the deed,
He really was dead rotten.

An Angel appeared to Joseph,
saying, ‘Gan to Egypt right away,
take Mary and the little lad,
and diven’t you delay.’
So they set off to be exiled,
till the bad old king had died,
They left Judea, travelling up north,
to Nazareth, near Castleside!

They settled in, and the baby grew
by the Sea of Galilee,
He told them all his parables,
To fulfil the prophecy.
The three wise men who had travelled far,
spread it all aroond the toon,
That the star they saw on that magic night,
was better than a bottle of broon!

So on twelfth night, look up to the skies,
and remember what’s been said,
If you see a star, make a wish on it,
Before you gan to bed!

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