Poems about dream - 12 Poems In Scots From The Housewife's Dream

12 Poems In Scots From The Housewife's Dream - Poem by sheena blackhall

1.Aiberdeen Herbour
Aiberdeen herbour,
Tarry watter
Seagill skirl
An North Sea chatter

Like wives o the warld sat doon tae news
Ile ships rest frae their latest cruise

2. The Puil
Cauld is the puil at the fit o the brae
Far the wechty troot lies pechin
Its muckle great moo castin bubbles abeen
As the watter vole sits flechin

Creashie an green, the puddock craiks
Fa's dowped on a steen bi its side
Far the daddylanglegs swippert an swack
Wauchts past wi his treelipin bride

An ay the gean tree blossom faas
On the girse an the watter's tap
Like scentit snaaflakes whummlin doon
Frae Heiven's cloudy lap

3. Ozzy the Cat
I'm roon an I'm fat
I'm Ozzy the cat
I'm playin ma squeeze box
In tune and nae flat
In fact I'm the anely feline aroon
That busks on the cassies tae cheer up the toon

4. Bat your Lashes
I'm a bat I like tae hing
Like kipper a smoky hoose
I've a furry kyte wi wings
Somethin like a fleein moose

Upside doon bats see the warld
Strung up bi oor clookit taes
Like pegged washin on the line
Raws an raws o funeral claes

5. Dauncin Craw
Did iver ye see a dauncin craw?
Ye've seen ane noo. Am I nae braw?
I fluff ma feathers an shoogle ma dowp
I skreich, I skirl, I birl, I lowp
The anely daunce I dinna like's
The fox trot. There's ane ower the dyke! !

6. The Fleein Kirk
Afore the toun wis waukened
Afore the doon an oots crawled ooto their pits
Afore McDonalds wis thrang wi brakkfaist burgers
St Nicolas kirk took scunner at the hale jing-bang
Sprooted a pair o wings, an o a suddenty, flew!
Aa its bells war ringin thon bricht mornin!
Luik ma, a fleein kirk, a wee loon telt his ma

Sic a bumbazement! Sic a stammygaster!
Dumfounert, Cooncillor Willie Young luikit up
Disn't thon beat aa, quo he

The day St Nicholas kirk knocked
Embro's trams
The leanin touer o Pisa
An the Loch Ness Monster
Inno a cocked hat

7. The Bath
High Blantyre pit wis kent as 'The Fiery Mine'
Because o a gas caad firedamp, methane-blichtit

Ae dreich October mornin afore the dawn
Twa hunner an twenty men gaed doon the shaft

Three oors later, the pit mou ganted wide
A lowe like the flames frae Hell fleered up tae the lift.
Near aa bit a haunfu war caad tae croconation

Eftir the greetin an girnin, cam the kistins
The widdas, the faitherless bairns,
The miners lowered doon tae the derk foraye

Mrs McDuncn gaed hame tae a clean bath
Nae seety tide merks, scum frae coal pit seam
Spotless. An thon's the thing that brukk her hairt.

8. Ode Tae Kail
Curly kail ye thole the weet
The cloor o wintertime
Bairn o the yird, the cauldrife frost
Pits sweetness in yer wyme
Curly kail, yer wrunkled leaves
O Greens, makk ye the Queen
Steamed byled or fried, an honest dish
In truth, the puir man's frien!

9. In the Ancestral Kirkyaird
Ootbye the kirkyaird waas
Lie unchristened bairns an suicides
Murderers an the like,
Beeriet atween 9pm an midnicht
There, or far fower roads meet
Laid face doon sae they canna rise frae the grun
Tae fash the leevin
Ooto sanctuary, ooto place an mind

Inbye the waas, the last man beeriet's
The watchie, guairdin the kirkyaird ghaists
Gin the mools are new howkit,
Somebody's ready for kistin
In a hoose nearhaun
They'll be girnin an greetin an wae
The hauns o the clock'll be stoppit
The keekin glaiss happit
An aa the curtains drawn

Three days o a wake vigil
The mourners'll sit wi the corpse
Wi a lichtit caunle

Syne it's fit-first oot the door
On the showders o kin
For the hinmaist journe on Earth
We aa maun takk in time

Naethin's iver surer than Daith itsel

10. Hermitage Castle
The castle stauns on Liddesdale
Whaur the Border reivers rode
Ained bi the Lord De Soulis
Accursed, thon dreid abode

His servant steeped in wickedness
Robin Reidcap bi name
Trysted bairns tae the castle haa
Awa frae their lawfu hame

An there, wi the warlock, Soulis
He cuttit oot their hairts
Tae feed the Deil their maister
Wi Vertue's tenderest pairts

Till Thomas the Rhymer catched him
An bund him wi towes o san
An in a pot o bylin leid
He killt thon evil man
Bit aften in the gloamin
Ye'll hear them skirlin yet
The ghaists o the murdered bairnies
Skailt bluid will ne'er forget

11.An Open Letter tae the Tounsfowk o Aiberdeen
Guid friens, I here set doon
The terrible cost tae the public purse
O burnin twa Aiberdeen witches

Item ane: £1 12s for fower tar barrels
Item twa: 13s 4d for the stake (an a chiel tae cairry it)
Item three: 6s 8d for twa iron barrels

Item fower: 6s for sax lengths o towe,
Item five: £2 13s 4d. Twenty sax loads o peat tae burn the limmers
Item Sax: 13s 4d tae John Justice the executioner for throttlin them
Item Seeven: £1.10 for a rowth o timmer
Aa this layoot tae feenish twa deevilish sinners!

Aa this, maisters, an pyin the guairds in the Tolbooth
Mairower the torturer's fees for garrin the witches confess
Nae tae mention the upkeep o thumb screws, leg irons, duckin steel
Forbye giein feed an drink tae the jyled prisoners
An waur, the time an costs incurred
Bi the Justice Coort, the Provost an fower baillies
Nae forgettin the jury. Is this aa tae be tholed?

As if this wisna eneuch, guid sirs,
The blockhouse on Pocra Quey
This verra year's bin thrang
Haudin crews in quarantine, suspeckit o cairryin plague.
The gallas aside it's aywis hingin pirates,
Raxxin their thievin thrapples

Fowk ay winner far the toun siller gaes! Weel sirrahs.
Nae on baillies holydays an funcy claes!

12.The Thrifty Bard
Paper was vrocht wi linen cloots,
Auld fishin nets, leather frae buits
Mony a mickle maks a muckle
Thrift makks much o a teenie puckle

Turn ower the legal rigmarole
Ye'll fin a poem will succour yer soul
Mony a mickle maks a muckle
Thrift makks much o a teenie puckle

Takk a leaf frae the buik o Will Dunbar
Gin the Muse comes chappin on bus, in bar
Screive yer poem on fit comes tae haun
Think o the trees in a furreign land
Mony a mickle maks a muckle
Thrift makks much o a teenie puckle