You like lazee cháse
You like lazer châser
You want to run hí
You want to run hì
You feel tired aff-
-ter chasing lase-
You exercise hí
Now you run and chase
At midnight hí
Everyone sleep-y
You still wann- run hí
To burn energ-y
You lie down hí
After chasing hì
You come closed to me
Want my warm hì
Never end hí
With laser chase
Meo meo meow meow
Meo meo meow meò
You look so cute hí
Look like a baby
I love you so hí
You are my ba-by
Categories:
aff, animal, cat,
Form: Free verse
A bonnie wee place, Drummore.
Just aff the Galloway Shore.
A stoat and a fish.
Their signature dish.
A bonnie wee place Drummore.
Categories:
aff, cheer up, fun, funny,
Form: Limerick
Ma boatie sailed ower the mist covered sea,
I searched an sought for your hidden shore,
Shrouded in mist frae ma searching eye.
You left in a red mist o yer makin,
Stormin aff afore ah could stoap yer flight,
Heid strang defiant an unco deaf tae protestations,
Awa back tae yer hame doon by the wild sea,
Broodin an frettin yer wrath ready tae explode,
Watchin the mist conseal yer shore.
Selkies an sirens kept silent at nicht,
Feart o yer mad writhings an screams,
Even the Coileach hid hersell away ,
In daurk caves inside o hills and bogs.
They were loast in the wids,
Whaur only fae Ghillie could see them oot.
Doon rushing burns kelpies would scream,
Rending the nicht to quiver an moan,
Whaur travellers wid shiver in tavern rooms.
Ah heard the moans an gripes in the mist
As at last ah fund yer shore wi smooth saun,
Whaur ah beeched ma little boatie,
Unner the licht o a bricht shining moon.
Upon yer shore ah staun an cast a look
Ower the saun toward yer hame,
An wunner if ah was tae blame.
Yer loast tae me forever in time,
Ne,er again will ah call ye mine.
Andrew mcintyre. 28/12/2020.
Categories:
aff, boat, confusion, girlfriend, lost
Form: Dramatic Monologue
The battles ower ,smoke settles ower the moor,
Clans are broken flying aff tae the hills.
Redcoated sodjers mingle with red Heilan blude,
Killing the wounded in Drumossie mud.
Oor Prince has fled leaving dreams in the dust,
Of a Stuart oan the throne that was oor lust,
like the heron scared of mans approach
fleeing his home being taen awa tae France.
Some say he was a bonnie lad cam frae italia way,
Heir tae the royale throne pretending tae be king,
Nae clue or fighting skill but the bonnie prince could sing.
Noo he was being led awa tae catch a boat tae tak him awa.
It was spoken of in tones hushed and still,
Ane day he wid return tae claim the throne,
Frae ower the watter oor king wid come,
Alang wi lairds cawed awa tae France.
© Andrew Provan McIntyre 2016-05-28
Categories:
aff, courage, dream, farewell, french,
Form: Rhyme
Whit'll ye dae when the Muslims come
If they bring thur minarets,mosques and imams
An' ower the city sound the muezzins' prayer alarms
An' they mak great play o' daein' Ramadan
An' profit frae sellin liquor they themselves ban
Glesga,whit'll ye dae?
Whit'll ye dae when the Muslims come
If they wrap thur wummin in niqab and burqa
An' insist oan usin' the courts Sharia
An' don't let ye mak jokes aboot the prophet
An' tell ye ,if ye dae,ye'd better come aff it
Glesga,whit'll ye dae?
Whit'll ye dae when the Muslims come
If they chant"Allahu Akbar" wi' thur guns in thur fists
An' blaw thumsels up wi' thur suicide vests
An' aw this efter shootin' hunners ae us
An' blamin' the West fur aw ae the fuss
Haw Glesga,whit'll ye dae?
Categories:
aff, satire,
Form: Rhyme
Thursday morning
Day aff
Time to have a think...
Down the M9
To Edinburgh
And walk across the Forth Bridge.
In the car
It's not very far
Only 26 miles,
Last day of sun
A'fore it rains a ton
Time for a few wee smiles.
Wind in hair
We must be there
Across the Firth of Forth,
Batteries charge
As the bridge looms large
So does the presence of the Lord.
Forth rail bridge
The diesel sings
As trains float over its tracks,
The red tinged steel
Matches the sun's feel
As it works on our head and backs.
The path looks long
The curve rolls on
Approaching Queensferry north,
Cable and steel
Engineering congealed
On the magnificent Firth of Forth.
The bird's eye view
With the seagull crew
Reveal the Firth's glory,
Where the bridges float
With the sailing boats
On this Edinburgh prairie.
Clock turns one
The walk is done
We leave the water and lorries,
Waste some time
Write another rhyme
As my wife and I smell the coffee.
Categories:
aff, life,
Form: Rhyme
Wur in RE an the nuns are gien
oot sweeties, fur getting the kweschins right.
Three oota three, then she’s askin mae who Jesus’ mither is.
‘Ah doan’t know sista,’ ah tell hur.
She isnae happy an tells mae tae hink aboot it. So ah dae
an ah wurk oot Jesus wis god. It wis a trick kweschin,
‘he didnae hiv ah mither.’ Ma
sweet stoats aff the side ae ma heid.
She’s spittin in ma coupon fur a name, an
diggin hur digits in ma neck.
‘Ah doan’t know who Jesus’ friggin mither wis!’
Miraculously ah float tae the front ae the cless. Ma haun’s oot,
bit ah doan’t hink shill hit mae wae that big stick. Thwack!
Ah look doon it the bloody gash through ma puddlin
eyes, ‘yoo’ve broke ma haun’ ah croak,
then turn roon an boak.
Categories:
aff, abuse, education, religious, school,
Form: Bio