To a Mountain Daisy - by
There, in thy scanty mantle clad,
Thy snawie-bosom sun-ward spread,
Thou lifts thy unassuming head
In humble guise;
Occasion: Burns Night
The Twa Dogs. A Tale. - by
‘Twas in that place o’ Scotland’s isle, That bears the name o’ auld King Coil, Upon a bonnie day in June, When wearin’ thro’ the afternoon, Twa dogs, that were na thrang at hame, Forgather’d ance upon a time. The first I’ll name, they ca’d him Caesar, Was keepit for ‘his Honor’s’ pleasure: His hair, […]
Rantin’ Rovin’ Robin - by
There was a lad was born in Kyle, But whatna day o’ whatna style, I doubt it’s hardly worth the while To be sae nice wi’ Robin. Chor. – Robin was a rovin’ boy, Rantin’, rovin’, rantin’, rovin’, Robin was a rovin’ boy, Rantin’, rovin’, Robin! Our monarch’s hindmost year but ane Was five-and-twenty days […]
The Yellow Yellow Yorlin - by
It fell on a day, in the flouery month o May A’ on a merry merry mornin I met a pretty maid, an unto her said I wad fain fin yer yellow yellow yorlin O no, young man, says she, you’re a stranger to me An I am anither man’s darlin Wha haes baith sheep […]
The Gallant Weaver - by
He is a gallant Weaver.
O, I had wooers aught or nine,
They gied me rings and ribbons fine;
And I was fear’d my heart wad tine,
And I gied it to the Weaver.
Hame - by
We made it together you and me
Planned the foundation,
Built waws and opened doors
Tae make a hoose, a hame and family
Flit - by
If there’s ever an honest poverty A virgin voyage on tempest sea Tae dig in pillaged dirt Graft cane tae plundered pewter Grams lashed anothers shackelled hand. A man’s a man for aw that? Well no back broke in the plantations. We understand ye didnae go Although ye might have longed it so Midnight flit […]
Atween the lines o Muirland Meg - by
Twa hunner years on they still sing alang
“Fer a sheeps cloot she’ll do it and do it til morn”
But I’ll sing yer worth Meg atween aw they lines
Yer a bairn, a wumman, a Goddess divine.
My Yellow Yorlin - by
I cuid fain the musk o anither man’s lust,
Tell this bastard that I’ve got a darlin
Or tak his siller and pretend, that I dae consent
Tae the stealin o my yellow yellow yorlin
O Rabbie, I hae seen the day - by
Yer pride’s been dunted, no yer hert
Fer me, a lassie chose anither airt
Awa and play wounded in the dirt
Etter yer reasons as tae why
Hunger for a Fruited Thorn - by
Night after night you rub against rock,
shed old skin for the pink of new.
Deceit falls from your lips
like seeds from a blackbird’s beak.
And still, I want you.
The Full Tenderness of Parting - by
In the trysting thorn’s fragrant shade
my love deflowered a harebell, crushed
plum petals between finger and thumb,
scented my hollows with adder-grey water.