Robin Picture



The Head Gardener

RobinPicture
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The Head Gardener
In his little red weskit....
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A Music Hall style song
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The fate of Charlotte Kimpton in 1845
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The sad story, as described in a display at the Salcombe Maritime Museum.
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The song of the badger
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celebrating the role of the pig in UK culture
yellowfiddler image Dark Ember
A country style song of unrequited love
yellowfiddler image The Devil in York
Traditional style chorus song based on a true story
yellowfiddler image So Far From Home
The Marching Song of the ghosts of the Ninth Legion
redfiddler image Steam Again in Goathland
Written at the time of the re-opening of the North Yorkshire Moors railway
yellowfiddler image The Tale of the Christmas Tree fairy
An epic seasonal monologue



As the winter days grow shorter and the nights are long and cold,
The harvest work is over, all the surplus has been sold.
So I dig and prune and tidy 'til I'm ready for a break
Then I notice someone watching as I lean upon my rake.....

      In his little red weskit and his jacket of brown,
      That's when the old head gardener comes down.
      He chirps and he whistles and he hops all around,
      In his little red weskit and his jacket of brown.

When the apple buds are bursting and the frosts are all but gone,
And the daffodils and crocuses look up to greet the sun,
All the seeding and the potting takes from morning until night,
And guess who's hopping over, just to check I did it right? ........

      In his little red weskit and his jacket of brown,
      That's when the old head gardener comes down.
      He chirps and he whistles and he hops all around,
      In his little red weskit and his jacket of brown.

Now the bees can tease their magic from the lavender and rose,
but I must tend the bedding with the water can and hose,
Still I find a little moment just to sing a summer song,
and when the chorus comes around he's there to sing along. .....

      In his little red weskit and his jacket of brown,
      That's when the old head gardener comes down.
      He chirps and he whistles and he hops all around,
      In his little red weskit and his jacket of brown.

Now the year's work's nearly over and the harvest days have come,
so we're picking and we're stacking till the dimming of the sun
but when we break for bread and cheese and warming harvest ale
he is there with a chirrup and a flicking of his tail....

      In his little red weskit and his jacket of brown,
      That's when the old head gardener comes down.
      He chirps and he whistles and he hops all around,
      In his little red weskit and his jacket of brown.



© Tim Brooks March 2017

fiddlesizespace

Origin of the Song

Having retired I thought I had seen the end of having someone watch over what I was doing

How wrong could I be?

Joking aside, it's marvellous how tame the robins in the garden become, hopping around your feet whenever you're likely to turn up something they could eat.


Downloadable Media files.



     Here's an mp3 recording of the song.




A printable lyric Sheet

     Here's a downloadable / printable pdf lyric sheet