On Coming Late to Waverley - by
Flora and Donald, Rose and Cosmo, Fergus MacIvor Vich Ian Vohr.
They live between the pages of events, of ideals
and causes
Walter Scott 250
SPL Ambassadors’ commissions
Kirkpatrick’s Hope - by
The tide was in,
a breeze in his face.
He wouldn’t change that,
not for any, other, place.
Gathering - by
That night, a grand shepherd’s welcome – devilled
duck, run brandy, old songs. Work thou within,
we’ll work without. He listens until full.
NECTABANUS - by
Kobolds, goblins; – bogles;
Whitever yez want ti cry uz: see, we hae bonny gee-gaws fir yez!
Sir Walter Scott - by
Fain wud ah hae pentit ye in a roch licht,
scunnert at aa yer on-cairry, that biggin up
o tartan lore, sic a fause freen tae Scotland’s story,
Wattie Presents - by
Oh aye, when Peter opent thae Pearly Gates fir me,
A wis weel ready, ma gammy leg wis playin up something awfy
An A goat a wee bit doolally, tae be honest.
Dumbiedikes - by
Hoo mony trees tae prent a thoosan buiks?
Hoo mony buiks tae pulp a thoosan trees?
Hoo mony trees tae launch a thoosan boats?
Drover - by
England’s sweet meadows
feed mony beasts,
sae dinnae be fechtin
ower whar they feast.