Oh, Findmypast, thou weekly delight,
Each Friday morn, a researcher’s light,
With treasures vast from lands and seas,
Unlocking family histories.
From Middlesex to Mumbai’s lore,
From Cornwall’s mines to Jersey’s shore,
You’ve led us down ancestral trails,
Through marriages, burials, and wartime tales.
Yet lo! This Friday, the cupboard was bare,
No records to seek, no leads to compare.
The year began with a deafening hush,
No Devon, no Scotland, no archival rush.
No burial stones, no church’s pew,
No whispers of history fresh and new.
The genealogist’s heart sank in dismay,
Where art thou, records, this New Year’s Day?
We’ve scoured the Royal Society’s past,
Traced Home Children’s journeys, steadfast.
But now we sit, our charts untouched,
Our roots untraced, our dreams uncrutched.
Oh, Findmypast, our weekly muse,
To skip a Friday—such grievous news!
But fear not, next week we’ll eagerly wait,
For your return, to set records straight.
So here’s our plea, a researcher’s prayer,
Bring back the Fridays with records to share.
Let Southwark sing, let Yorkshire cheer,
And spoil us rotten this genealogist’s year!
They were actually AWOL for two Fridays! Shame.
was this done by AI, or our master genealogist, John Reid?
I dunno. Doesn’t matter. It’s great.