TIGHT WAD
Yer cannie, as cannie be.
Nae sloutch, or frivolous, spend-thrift, ye.
Whose coin, to feered to leave the purse,
-in-case it’s ye’sd tae quench the thirst.
O, the ither, who just stood ye one.
Now sitting empty as a drouthy burn,
as he waits on you to stand your turn.
He taps his glass, he looks at you,
A bead of sweat runs doon your broo.
There’s nae way oot o this one noo.
Ye steady yer-sel, ye are resigned.
Then an idea springs tae mind.
You dig deep, you rummage roond.
The ither hopes its coin you’ve foond.
But you pull oot your watch instead,
his face is thunder yours turns red.
But not of shame, but by reprieve,
for the precious coin that’s now been
saved--to see the light of a-nither day,
as you prepare to go your way.
Jings is that the time, you will exclaim.
It’s time that you were getting hame.
And as you leave to go on your way,
I’ll catch you next time you will say,
As you pat you’re purse, well hidden away,
Your coinage safe for a-nither day.
A poem by john scott
Categories:
broo, assonance,
Form: Rhyme
Distance is what is asked
Should it be a tasked?
Or you'll be the one to cracked
The thing that we had
You'll always be my greatest hello
In this world full of let go
But how could I move and go
Whenever i saw you glow
My world stops and broo
You made my life a little brighter
Give me reason to laugh louder
See the stars shinier
The nights less scarier
And falling seems a little bit tolerable
While leaving becomes impossible
My actions became unreasonable
With you being the reason of all
Categories:
broo, feelings, heart, how i
Form: I do not know?
yer cannie as cannie be
Na'e sloutch or frivolous spend-thrift ye
Who's coins to feered to leave the purse
In-case it's ye'sd tae quench the thirst
O' the ither who's just stood ye one
now sitting empty as a drouthy burn,
as he waits on you ta'e stand yer turn.
He taps his glass-he looks at you,
a bead o' sweat runs doon yer broo.
There's na'e way oot o' this one noo.
So yo steady yersel, ye are resigned
to pay the ither back in-kind.
But then an idea springs ta'e mind.
Ye dig deep, you rummage roon'd
the ither hopes its coin ye'v foon'd.
But you pull oot yer watch instead-
his face is thunder, your's turns red,
but not of shame- but by reprieve
for the preciose coin that's jist been saved.
Jings! is that the time you will exclaim
it's high time you were getting hame.
And as you prepare to go your way.
i'll catch you next time you will say,
and pat the purse that's hidden away
your coinage saved for an-ither day
a poem by john-jock-scott
Categories:
broo, anxiety,
Form: I do not know?