Hen Utopia (17 Scots Poems)

1.At the Scots Wird Ceilidh Stammygasters war hoochin wi clishmaclavers Stooshies war fechtin wi scunners Blethers war breengin wi heelstergowdies Gollachs war lowpin bi hunners Peeliewallies war bosyin tapsalteeries Chorers war drinkin wi drochles An wee Willie Wallicky turned up late In his semmit an granminnie’s bauchles Skirlers war birlin wi scutters an footers A bizzim wis oxterin a craa A fat whigmaleerie wis blootered’s a peerie The polis arrested them aa 2.Sleepin Bairn for Jessica Fin I watch the littlin sleepin She’s like a swan on the saftest cloud in the warld I ettle tae jyne her, Fariver bairnies gyang fin they steek their een Her lips lirk in a smile. Nae monsters derken her dwaum Mebbe wee siller bells tinkle on a faraway sphere Far it’s dawn an the dyew is sweet Her braith cams in an oot as licht as feathers Douce and bonnie, her sowl ‘s like new faan snaa 3.Magi McGlynn: tune Brian O’Lynn (traditional) Magi MacGlynn has a pair o blue een An a kilt roon his hurdies that the win blaws atween He’s a wispy moustache an a beard roon his chin An he sings like a lintie does Magi McGlynn Magi McGlynn biggt a hoose in Balquidder Wi branches an stanes an a shakk doon o heather Whaur the anely soun heard is the burn’s merry din ‘It’s the music o watter, ’ says Magi McGlynn. Magi McGlynn humphs an Irish bodhran He can drum up a storm wi ae flick o his haun If ye happen tae miss him, yer glekit or blin He’s a luik o distinction has Magi McGlynn Magi McGlynn in his bender o stanes Coories doon in the firelicht tae warm his banes He’s a bard o the roads, ain o Ossian’s kin He’s a chiel for aa Sizzens is Magi McGlynn Magi McGlynn has braw stories tae tell Tae see him, ye’d think he wis Rob Roy himself He’s as swack as a troot wi a dun-speckled skin He’d the pride o Balquidder is Magi McGlynn 4.The Michty Finn Finn stravaigs the gairden He’s vauntie as a laird He’s gallus an he’s cocky Wi his muckle tail up-aired He swaggers ower the flag stanes That edge his maister’s girse Syne clenches ticht his dowp-chikks Like a miser’s steekit purse An syne, he licks his hurdies Ae shank ahin his heid The Michty Finn, contortionist The feline’s fiercest breed! 5.Kidnapped. Young Peter Williamson wis sent Fae Hirnlay intae Aiberdeen Tae bide there wi his city aunt Fa let him play nearby the Green Doon on the quey stood Captain Ragg Twa crewmen wi him strang an stoot They cairried him tae Aedie’s Hoose A piper drooned his skirlin oot The voyage tae Americay Wis hard, the waves an gales war great The boat, The Planter, wis shipwracked The crewmen left him tae his fate Bit wi the daybrakk, rescue cam A roup held in a nearby toon Hugh Wilson bid…Peter wis bocht The dealer brocht the haimmer doon. Hugh deid, an left him aa his gear His saiddle, shelt, his hinneybees His luck hid changed…bit for the waur The Indians catched him in the trees Twa times a slave! Bit he escaped Sailed hame, dressed as an Indian chief An traivelled back tae Aiberdeen Bit frae his trials fand nae relief They banished him, bit Peter focht For compensation for his past An bocht a howf in Edinbro An lived a happy chiel at last! 6.The Holy Guaird The Green wis common lan for aa Tae graze their goats, their yowes, their kye And later, madder yairds war biggt Far claith, new-made, wis dyed doonbye Aince, William’s Royal Palace stood Doon in the Sooth side o the Green Fan saxty years had passed an gane The White Friars cam tae Aberdeen An far the Lion o the Scots Had bedd, they biggt their friary The Carmelites, fa cam tae teach Tae gairden, heal, tae kneel an pray Nigh on three hunner years, the Green Wis hame tae caunle, bell an buik An shady orchard o the friars A haly an a peacefu neuk But syne reformers cam tae wrakk Tae loot an spulzie, kill each friar Fin brither Francis stood alane They stabbed, syne tossed him on the fire An orra ploy. An yet, this day Fin starnies flicker on the Green The hooded Brither Francis guairds His ghaistly home in Aiberdeen 7.The Sacrist The Marischal College students hid A gleg ee’d sacrist, legends say Caad Downie. He’d clype on their fauts An hae them fined near ilkie day Medical students! His great hate! He herried them..a nesty blicht Till seeven met inbye the quad Tae ponder foo tae set things richt The plot wis hatched. Tae Downie cam An invitation tae atten A meetin at a nearby howf At rooms, a pleisunt time tae spen The sacrist rigged himsel wi care An set aff tae be wined an dined Bit at the howf, the students raise Wi blinfauld, gag, an towes tae bind ‘We are baith judge an jury here We’ve met tae try ye for yer life An if a guilty verdict’s fand An axeman’s here, wi shairpened knife Guilty o discipline ower harsh! ’ The students held their fae in check They gart him kneel, an smilin, ane Skelped a weet flannel on his neck. Wi a queer sigh the sacrist fell ‘It’s jist a jest. We’ve lowsed yer bans’ Bit Downie lay, baith stiff an cauld He’d deid o terror at their hauns An gin ye pass the Marischal gate An hear an eildritch, gurly mane It’s nae the students. They ran aff It’s Downie, frae his ghaistly hame 8.Incomin I’m saxty three years auld. It’s Februar Snell wins an blin-drift’s forecast, roch an coorse, Wi icy roads an peely-wally sun, Somelike a slice o lemon, weety, wersh The gairden’s crined, the flooers hae dwined awa The haar rowes up the river frae the sea Fin I wis wee, the fog-horn eased tae blaw A maen as dreich’s the deid-thraa o a bull. My laddie’s in the hoose, expectant faither His wife is near her time, the bairn is kickin She’s wabbit, deintie craitur, hyne awa Frae scents an sichts o Saigon, silks an rice Chinee New Year’s jist by, nae temple gongs Or firecrackers brichten up her day She trauchles back an fore, a faithfu wife Chappin the veg I canna even name She’ll nae forget the time her first-born cam The howdie roarin English in her lug Her bairn will haud twa cultures in each neive I mynd ma ain first born’s sair doon drappin Booin ma back inby the jizzen bed Watter, swyte an bluid his first libation. Sae short a whylie back, this lassie’s merriege Rose petals skittered fur her passin feet Noo she’s bin pued an wheeched ootower the ocean Intae the trauchle o the wifely darg Her een are calm an smilin like Auld Asia Born tae thole fitiver weird she’ll dree. 9.Meen-time The meen abeen the ferm hings hauf skweejee Hunkerin doon hoch-heich in dyewy girse That swyes alang the ley, a reeshlin sea The byre an barn are twa blaik beeny breets The stoor o day has sattled deep in corn The teenie violet steeks its purple ee Fowk lie abed, the sheets pued roon their nebs Lattin the oors o wark sype aff like swyte. In wids, wee moosies steer far hoolets flee Tod’s hungered littlins in the den maun wyte For patterin paws tae bring them bluidy gifts The meen’s the time fur lovers, an the gyte. A shooer o rain pit-pitters aff the reef In cars parked far up laybys, couples birze For houghmagandie’s sweetest mangst the trees The scentit aipple an the rosit firs 10.The Hues o Flooers The yalla daffs an pee-the-beds are skyrie Drappit suns, lichtenin the girssy sheugh Bricht stammygasters in Spring’s hurly-burly Heather is purple, kingly, its hairt beat Its empire takkin in hale Bens an glens Merchin alang the corries, laired in peat A rose is crammosie’s a corbie’s beak Powkin amang some deid bawd’s raw intimmers Wi thorns as jobby as a kittlin’s teeth Blue’s the forget-me-not aneth the whin Ryped frae a lift wi feint the cloud in sicht Like the new veins aneth a newborn’s skin Snawdrops are pearlins on the lug o cauld Booed ower like some auld carlin-wife, twa-fauld. 11.The Singin Sycamore, Fadlydyke John Constable wad hae lued this ferm Wi its neuks o leaf an sky Far a singin sycamore fills wi sang Bi the side o a sheugh ootbye The ferm cat’s fat as a butter baa A pyoke o pieces an purrs Streeked oot on her side, wi limbs ootraxxed Like a Hollywid star, on furs A rabbit sits wi its lugs straicht up Een fu o the myxi blicht A mavis cheeps on the bar o a fence A warble o tune an licht The rose hips fatten in sheugh an brae A wasp crawls ben a booer A buzzard hings like a gibbet’s airm Tensed up for the killin clooer A moch the size o a finger nail Gaes flichterin ower the brummils Syne faulds its wings an dauchles a while An catches its pech, an trimmles Blink-bonnie day wi a lift o blue Sae warm, ye cud tirr yer sark Clouds drap doon frae the heivens abune Tae reest on a Buchan park Tractor wheels wi their coats o glaur Dwaum near-haun cattle trochs An a bawd gaes breengin amangst the corn Wi the sun on its hairy hochs The rooks like seety washin pegs Are stung on the telegraph wires An the moosewabs threidin the skirps o strae Climm wannerin willes’ spires The singin sycamore’s hidden birds Cheep up tae the sun abeen Bit the fite-faced hoolet’s oorie hoot Is a sang tae the derk an meen 12.Noddies According to the tinkers 'Burkers' were doctors who were helped by medical students called 'Noddies.’ Fa could forget Auld Donald, his neb like a beet Sweyin hard, the wirthless sot, bi the medical college Shakkin his beggin bowl? He didna believe the killin tales O fowk snatched aff the road bi student sawbeens, Donald, fa sang like an angel Through a moo o brukken teeth, Donald wi his lucky siller saxpence in his buit, Aywis a rumour hingin aff his lip Naebody else wad wirk the college stance. Vanished, he did, in the deid o winter Wheeched awa bi anatomy men His siller saxpence spent in a student howf The doctors’ coach gaed saftly roon thon neuk The soun o the cuddies’ hooves smored wi paddin Efter they passed, nae hide nor hair o Donald Anely a wee trail dreepin reid on the snaa John Stewart swore it stank like a butcher’s shop, Thon fiendish coach, its fleer aa punched wi holes Tae let the bluid escape, an keep things tidy-like Hare-lip Mary fa cleaned the fires at the howf Said that the wheels dug wechty in the snaa Though the driver chiel vowed sair the coach wis teem It saved the toun the cost o a pauper’s kistin The fowk agreed. Forbye, A sawbeen’s got to learn his trade on somebody. 13. The Cailleach’s Sang I had twa brithers, noo I hae nane I sit in the greenwid aa alane Heedrum hodrum the mist furls roon Makkin the threids o an auld wife’s goun I had twa lips that war vrocht tae kiss Little eneuch they kent o bliss Heedrum hodrum the mist furls roon Makkin the threids o an auld wife’s goun The flax is green, the flax is weet That growes tae wyve my wyndin sheet Heedrum hodrum the mist furls roon Makkin the threids o an auld wife’s goun 14.Kittlin oo-raivellin clook raxxin moose-keppin bird-knellin milk-suppin cassie-breengin waa-lowpin tree-scrattin claith-clookin sun-dwaumin hoch-flechin tail-yarkin spurgie-eein threid-jummlin luv-lowsin plate-peengin wauk-queenin wids-reengin nicht-skreichin fusker-trimmlin lino-pykin dug-blooterin wyme-stappin KITTLIN 15.Oor Willie’s Report Card Work habits are improving: Your Wullie is a lazy vratch Eager to share in classroom discussions: Blethers aa the time Spirited at the cost of accuracy: Gypes aboot. Screives like a hen scrattin Does well when he focuses on task: Needs a minder tae haud him doon With encouragement, socialises well: Spens playtime in the heidie’s office Has difficulty transitioning from outdoor activities: Like a flech on speed Finds classroom routines problematic: A back-spikkin wee scunner Could benefit from greater home support: A hett dowp wadnae gyang amiss William has yet to reach his full potential: Glekit an din-raisin footer 16.The Speckled Cauldron (Corryvreckan) The hag o Winter, Cailleach Bheur Steered up the waves tae wash her plaid The speckled cauldron o the sea A whirlpuil feared bi man an maid The Norse Prince Breakan socht tae woo A Princess o the Western Isles Her faither socht tae keep her hame Bi stratagem an cunning wyles Tae win the lassie for his bride The Prince maun brave the whirlpuil’s rage Three days an nichts tae anchor, in The fiercest maelstrom o the age Back hame tae Norroway he sailed An vrocht three cables strang an ticht O hemp, an oo, an vergins’ hair Frae lassies pure as Heiven’s licht On the first day the hemp towe snapped The oo upon the secunt, brakk On the third day, the maidens’ hair Sindered. The boat cowped on its back. An roon an roon aneth the waves The prince, his faithful dug an crew Furled roon. Ae sailor an a dug Survived the hellish cauldron’s brew On Jura syne the grey dug searched On Scarba tae, his maister socht He tried tae cross the watery strait Tae Lunga…bit aa cam tae nocht Lowpin tae reach a hauf-wye isle He slippit in the ragin tide Faithfu as iver tae the eyn In daith, he won the Prince’s side In Norroway the ladies grat Ae stran o thon fair-cuttit pleat Cam frae a quine impure in wyes A limmer, free wi favours sweet The Princess o the Western Isles Fand her true luve upon the stran An in the king’s cave beeriet him A stranger in thon savage lan An there he lies. On stormy nichts Fin Cailleach Bheur wheeps up a storm Ye’ll see a grey dug in the lift An hear Prince Breakan’s huntin horn 17.Girl with Dead Canary: Jean-Baptiste Greuze Luik at the quine wi the deid canary! Fit is the bird’s obituary? Stuffed tae daith wi sweeties an treats An smored in the depths o lassie’s breists