Peacock (21 Scots Poems)

1.At the Mools o Mill o Tifty's Annie: 15/5/2009 The kirkyaird steps are weet wi tummelt leaves Untimely rived frae their boughs bi a roch win It has battered them doon bi sheer breet force an pouer Cannily, we mount the sypin stairs Climmin atween twa touerin, wallopin trees. It's dark an dreich. A whiff o the warlock Hings in the ghaistly pooch o the sere air See..thon's the verra cross she lies aneth. A muckle black cat sits atap her banes An unca real an present, eildritch guairdian. We are incomers on its stewardship. It hisses, flicks its tail, an wheechs awa Wi cushioned paw-lowps ower the dreepin stanes. Since Charles the Secunt's reign this murdered lass Has fulled her nerra bed in the cauld yird She's nae forgotten...niver oot o mynd She is the thorn in Fyvie's lush, green conscience The public...nae her kinsmen...raised this merker They sing it still, her tale, baith grim an black A tale o luver's trysts an faither's pride A tale o secret kisses an their price The brither's beatin...kicks...the brukken back. The statue o her trumpeter still stauns Blawin his silent trumpet doon the years Frae Fyvie's turrets. Stoor has stopped her een He can nae Langer move his quine tae tears 2.Overheard at the Roup Czy m6wisz po angielsku? Do you speak English? At least the sea haar's keepit aff sae far Fa's the auctioneer up on the larry? I always liked that pair of easy chairs A real live roup is far mair fun than e-Bay I bid for't first...bit it wis far ower dear! Niver takk a wumman tae an auction I'll need shore porters tae humff as this hame That's aa the spends for this month doon the burn! Hae you spare room fur tables in yer vannie? Fa bocht the lobster creels? Wis't yon incomers? We've been here 40 years....we're still called strangers Look yonner... is thon Jeem's cousin's partner? Her skirt's hauf up her dock...a racy hizzy I kent he'd lose his licence fit a drooth! Thon antique dealer's gaen an bocht the chunty! We gave him that gold clock for years of service I didna ken the wifie played the pianie Thon hen coop wad be rare for Kylie's rubbits! Is thon the time? I'm aff tae miss the traffic! Far did ye say they're flittin? Tillydrone? 3.At Nellfield Cemetary William Alexander Memorial (1826-1894) A corbie sat on a weather vane Abune him glimmert a gowden cock Ablow them baith, a cooshie doo Croodlin ower grave an brukken crock `Here's lauded Gibb o Gushetneuk Mangst fermers, fleshers an fusiliers Bakers an barbers, tailors, vrichts Soutars, seamen an engineers Quate company, ' the cooshie quo Syne keekin up at the cockerel speired `Far think ye that the deid are bound For, in the mools, we'll share their weird? ' A pluff o win blew up frae the North The cockerel froze, baith tail an crest `Thon's aa the sense ye'll get frae him He keeps his cairds close tae his chest.' The corbie craad, 'Bit dinna fash The sun is warm, the yews are green It's anely humans plant their deid Neth glaur an foggy kirkyaird steen An gin ye dee the morn, ma doo Yer bobbin shank grow stiff's a peg I gie ma wird that I'll provide Sky beerial, wi ma reid neb.' 4.The Merriege o the Trees The trees are gaun tae a waddin The geans are bridesmaids aa Pink blossoms' silk confetti Roon the weel-wishers faa The rowan is the bonnie bride Her hauns fu o fite flooers The pine tree, as the meenister, Heich in his pu'pit touers The beech tree is the trimmlin groom The pride o aa the wid The birk trees are the maiden guests Ahin their brither, hid. An sic a reeshlin ye will hear A soochin in the breeze The leaves aa dauncin on the day The merriege o the trees 5.Whaup The whaup has drappit his feathers ower the muir Ae meenit he raise like thistle-oo on the win Seekin the peaty dubs o an aucient tarn Fur wirms tae stap in the moo o his skreichin littlins C000-eeeeee he cried, a lilt thirled tae the bens A halflin wi a shotgun stoppit his sang The pellets cleaved his breist like a thunnerclap The lang-nebbit craitur drapped bi a deid dunt Nae bein human he didna greet as he fell Nae bein human he didna speir fit wye Nae bein human he didna seek revenge The bog claimed him, broon on broon, Anely his feathers he left tae the heather brae An the smush o fower green eggshells, His tribal future. 6.The Pupil Please Miss, Please Miss, Ryan Trotter's Wirds keep lowpin aff his jotter Maisie Duncan's got the flu She winna cover her at-choo Please Miss, Please Miss, I need watter Dehydration maks me hetter Than Mount Etna. I feel sick It's a winner I can spikk Please Miss, Please Miss, I'm allergic Tae skweel blazers. Fetch the nurse quick Please Miss, I hae Human Richts Ye canna stop me giein frichts Tae first year pupils. Please Miss, may We shut the skweel? There's nae fit spray In the gym an Willie's feet Honk sae bad they'd gar ye greet. Please Miss...Here's guid news for you I'm on the skweel committee noo! ! ! 7.Heilan Mary Hair in bunches, platform soles, a mini kilt, a kipper tie Heilan Mary at the bus stop luikin cool an unca spry Neil McGregor's in her Maths class. Tall an derk wi a coo's lick Makks her hauns gae weet an clammy, legs like ice-cream on a stick Neil McGregor's jist chauncer...bit aa halflins need tae try Tells her, if she really lued her...she wad let him aa the wye Heilan Mary at the bus stop. Dumped. She's learned ower late Ony dug'll sup the porridge laid afore it on a plate. 8.Rain in the Toun Rain in the toun. Grey lift, weet macs, blaik brollies Traffic lichts staunin dreepin in their ain reflections Fit an on-ding! Hale watter, a richt doonpish! Seagulls paiddle their webbed feet doon the cassies The meen's a peppermint sookit inno a sliver Aabody hashin hame, heids booed, Splyerin throw dubs an skirpit bi larrie's wheels A drookit dug, its tail atween its legs, Nae wytin fur the Green Mannie Gars three wee cars an a larry Jink tae miss it. 9.The Dee, headin for Derry Lodge The Dee is heidin for Derry Lodge The Don is aff tae the sea The Denburn's slinkin aneth the grun Gien ower tae secrecy The Dee's the airt fur dookin, an fun The Don keeps anglers cheery The Denburn's dwined, an creepin awa An auld man, crined an weary. 10.Linn o Dee The linn o Dee gangs birlin roon An mony's the ane sleeps at its foun Littlin, lassie laird an loon Takkin a last lang drink o't. Its waves gang tummlin ower pell-mell Like deevilcks drapt frae the mou o hell The salmon's deefent bi the knell The glimmrin skelp, the weet o't Like some weird cauldron frae langsyne Its rikk wauchts up. It's best tae myne Ae slip..ye'll aa yer sorras tyne In the deep puil, the briest o't. 11.Yalla Yeitie: broadcast by Robbie Shepherd, (BBC Radio Scotland's Reel Blend) Frae the green larick's showdin bough A yalla yeitie sings This is fit men caa Paradise A warld o flooers an wings A peesie treetles ower the park Hett-fittin't ower the grun Wee spurgies in the brierin sheugh Takk stoor-baths in the sun Nae birr o car, nae clack o claik Disturbs the heathery braes The rosit-backit Heilan coos Mangst the sweet clover, graze Hyne aff the Muick gaes bickerin ower Broon steens o weety glent An lipper-lapper clap the waves Like bairns in merriment 0 dreichsome be the lot o fowk Fa's lives ken nocht o this Far Muick an Dee thegither fill A reamin cup o bliss Frae the green larick's showdin bough A yalla yeitie sings This is fit men caa Paradise A warld o flooers an wings 12.Mannie in the Green There wis a wee mannie fa cam frae the Green He's seen mony sichts aa aroon Aiberdeen He stauns near the coorts, far the sheriff sens doon Aa the muggers an heid-bangers lowse in the toon 13.MacDonalds, Aberdeen: tune Old MacDonald's Farm Auld Macdonald made a bap Stapped wi meat an cheese An aa the bairns are cryin oot `Gies a burger please! ' Chorus Wi a burger here an a burger there Here a Mac there a Mac aawye a big Mac Auld MacDonald made a bap Slapped wi meat an cheese Some Big Macs are fu o fat Rinnin thick wi grease Takk a sachet o reid sauce An scoosh it wi a squeeze Chorus 14.My Mither an your Mither My mither an your mither were hingin oot their clothes My mither gied your mither a dunt on the nose (traditional) My mither telt your mither it's quite easy seen Ye hae forgot it's ma day fur the green! 15.Aunty Jean God Save my Aunty Jean Lang may she mak ice cream In oor back green (traditional) Gie us a trampoline Shades & some sun screen Then we can sit an dream In oor back green 16.Aberdeen in the 19th Century Turkey Willie's sellin hens Tuckie Jockie's pickin pooches Hoastie Bain sells cough sweeties Jumpin Judas prigs an mooches Snuffle Broonie's aff his face Eely-Betty renders whale ile Doon in Fittie blubber yard. Fortie Piggies jinks the jyle Sanny's sellin sea girse mats The Parten's makkin sarks an troosers Ginger Blue's a gangrel chiel Fit a heeze o fooshts an losers! 17.Hello Boys Fa's the quines tae please the punters Frae the docks tae Cockie Hunters? Snuffy Ivy, Bubbly Snitch Cove Mary, Twang...hae ye an itch The auld professionals can scratch? Mind yer wallet. Hide yer watch. Feekie drinkers, sheriffs, sodjers Virgins, merriet men an dodgers Pye yer siller, they'll nae tell Their moos are steeked as ticht's a shell Cross-eed, pirn-taed, humfy-backit Onybody's pound, they'd takk it Democratic tae a faat Their profession? Fit'dye-ca't.... 18.Three Cheers for the Month o Mey Three cheers for the month o Mey Fin the rinners cast their sarks An dugs an bairns an grannies an mas Skail ower the daisied parks Three cheers for the month o Mey Like tars frae a nicht on the spree The waves on the beach come rowin in Frae the breengin, briny sea Three cheers for the month o Mey Fin a blink o blue keeks through An the trampolines come ooto the shed Wi the puil an the barbecue Three cheers for the month o Mey The trees hae their glad rags on An aabodies' face is weirin a smile Fin ooto the clouds, lowps sun! 19.Neil Gow's Lament for his Second Wife: taken from the actual inventory of Neil Gow's Possessions. Tune: Neil Gow I hae a braw hame that's weel stockit wi gear I've plenishin gaithered ower mony's a year I hae beddin an dishes, a guid butter churn I wad gladly owergie them should Maggie return Oh the feather bed's saft..bit it's lanely my lane The lowe burns less cheery noo Maggie is gaen At ae blaw o the bellas the flame burns sae bauld Since my luv wis taen frae me aa Inver is cauld The wee birds are thiggin, their nests they are biggin And tho my reef's thackit my hairt it is wae My ingleside's drearie. Nae wird frae ma dearie The grave stauns atween us an quaet is the clay The stoor gaithers greyly, the oors they turn slowly The keekin glaiss derkens, nae mistress sae gay Preens her curls at its face wi a lauch in her mou It's a hoose nae a hame withoot her that I lue The spottit milk coo murns aneth the aik tree At the wint o thon merry fit crossin the lea An the braisse, wi nae hoosewife tae polish't an shine Grows as dowie an cloody as vinegar wine Wi'oot Maggie aside me it's nae gweed ava The walkin stick stauns in its place in the haa The cloots they are wrunkled, the bowster is torn Ilkie day is as dreich turned as rain-draigglit corn Wee bairnies are lauchin, young luvers are daffin Throw widlan an park the broon hinneybees steer Bricht mochs skiff an dover ben heather an clover Heich simmer's aroon bit tae me aa is drear Sweet leverocks are singin, aa throw the wids wingin While I bide lamentin ilk rosebud seems sere Till the day that in her nerra staa I shall creep In the airms o ma dearie, sae gently I'll sleep 20.The City o God There's a kirk in oor toon cad the City o God Fit are its office oors? Dis Gabriel man the reception desk? Fit's its judicial pouers? Dae angels commute there ilkie day Frae the clouds abeen Balmedie? I'm thinking there's nae a pension plan Seein's aabody's deed already! For overtime they micht freelance Doon the herbour bars o a nicht Tae gie roch sleepers a mug o tea Or brakk up the antrin fecht Is there a traffic jam each day Frae Paradise ower tae Torry? Div the ser-aphim dine on fresh air Insteid o an Aitken's rowie? There's a kirk in oor toon cad the City o God Fit are its office oors? Dis Gabriel man the reception desk? Fit's its judicial pouers? 21.Charles Darwin Charles Darwin sailed aroon the warld Wis sea-sick nearhaun ilkie day Sae he wis ay first aff the boat Fin it drapped anchor in a bay. On shoogly sea-legs aff he strode Hale swarms o beasties stapped his pooch An ither breets took fleg an cried Rin: Darwin's comin on the mooch Syne puggies skyted up the trees An fish dived ower the herbour bar Quick...Charlie Darwin's eftir us Rin, or he'll plunk ye in his jar!