The Morrow-bird - by
Stones, it won’t be sufficient
just to sit on your dowps and say ‘nay’.
Trees, don’t be waving your arms about
in some new breeze every day.
Poems
An online library of poems from the Scottish Poetry Library.
Romansachd - by
An t-allt a’ sruthadh fhathast,
a’ bleith is a’ briseadh chreagan
gun abhsadh
a’ lìonadh linneachan dorch, bagarach.
Proud Maisie - by
“Cò nì leaba mo phòsaidh –
Abair, eòinein, gu stuama?
“An rèiligear liath
A chladhaicheas uaighean.
Lochinvar - by
Tha Lochinvar òg ’s e air nochdadh bhon iar,
Is gun aon each nas fheàrr aig neach feadh nan Crìoch;
’S gun aige ball-airm ach deagh chlaidheamh a-mhàin,
E marcachd gun armachd ’s na aonar a-ghnàth;
Chuala sinn losgadh - by
Air àrd-ùrlar fiodha
tha fear marbh, sìnte,
seann phàipear a chraiceann,
dùinte, sìtheil a shùilean,
Lochinbar agus msaa - by
Gaisgeach gun teagamh
Agus mheall e iad uile aig Talla Netherby
Gu h-àraidh am fleasgach bochd, ad a’ snìomh na làimh,
Duine gun fheum a sheas le coltas an amadain
Namesake - by
On Ellen Isle, there’s your Lady of the Lake
on a beach of pebbles bright as snow, lifting her head
at some imagined sound. Soon the sun will set, the loch
become a burnished sheet of living gold.
Going Ancestral - by
You, half-understanding,
gripping an over-buttoned remote,
sitting by a pile of reminder notes
three days - by
Our dance like someone else
and she was a flow of swirling red curls
swallowed deep in vodka
A further unsuccessful water cure was attempted at Prestonpans in summer 1777* - by
This is the wave will break the spell,
this is the weed will coil my calf,
this is the waters’ warp and weft,
this is the song of the healing swell.
Tales Of A Grandfather - by
Clouds pass abeen, haar inatween,
The chisel cuts awa.
An aal chiel an a younger een
Ye’ve files been there anaa.
The View - by
A chanting stills my drift
and a star eyed forget-me-not
tempts me to the glittering water.