Walter Scott 250 Archives - Page 2 of 2

Monument - by Katy Ewing

{ Poem }

hungry for my turn to see the improbable sweep
of Edinburgh city tiny from above
laid out between hills and water,

On Coming Late to Waverley - by Jane Pearn

{ Poem }

Flora and Donald, Rose and Cosmo, Fergus MacIvor Vich Ian Vohr.
They live between the pages of events, of ideals
and causes

Kirkpatrick’s Hope - by Daniel Gillespie

{ Poem }

The tide was in,
a breeze in his face.
He wouldn’t change that,
not for any, other, place.

Gathering - by Craig Aitchison

{ Poem }

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 Tom Hubbard

{ Poem }

Kobolds, goblins; – bogles;
Whitever yez want ti cry uz: see, we hae bonny gee-gaws fir yez!

Sir Walter Scott - by Sheila Templeton

{ Poem }

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 Liz Niven

{ Poem }

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 James Robertson

{ Poem }

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 Shane Strachan

{ Poem }

England’s sweet meadows
feed mony beasts,
sae dinnae be fechtin
ower whar they feast.

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