I wish I were a ginger girl from south shligooooo!
Like Queen Maeve, sip soup called "loo la loop"
Stand on the Hill of Tara
Read The Lebor Gabála
Taste Conn ale ‘til I’m numpty, numpty noo
Last night I saw you, In my dream,
You were standing there
Looking at me, with a smile so serene.
The impression of you was vague,
Darker was your hair
Wider was your smile
In your eyes, there was so much of glare.
By your image, I was mesmerized
I walked towards you,
I ran to catch you
But from the grip of the dark, I couldn't get through,
I was being occupied by the darkness all around,
Noo one was in that dark snow
But you, me and the dark scary background,
It never dawned upon me, to let that idea of you go.
I was feeding myself with idiosyncratic ideas of you,
Even though your impression faded a while ago
Perhaps, I got used to running after you
Sometimes loosing my patience,
Sometimes going slow.
There is no way this spell could be broken,
I was in a trap.
Then on my shoulder, I felt a pat.
And from this beautifully dark dream, I got out.
With my blurred vision, I looked around
But you were nowhere to be found.
With a sigh, not sure I was disappointed
Or in a relief, your idea was now far behind,
Even so abstract images of you are on my mind.
I couldn't give a toss for the caber
cromach bagpipes sporran or kilt
(a fling's the thing)
and you can stick your dirk in your haggis
up to its bog-wood hilt
yet I'd like to hike through the heather
on happy Sassenach holidays
see the scenery admire the view
along Scottish hilly highways and byways
to pick a pink-purple thistle or two
and should I come upon a hairy Highland cow
on the hoof in a friendly farmer's flink fold
(for protection from the cold)
in no uncertain terms I would declare
"I say to you, hoo noo broon coo?"
och aye no sooner said than done
than perchance from the Caledonian bovine one
the reply too true in a Scots burr would come...
'Moo!'
Paddy went tae the Curragh racecourse
Bet his all on the favourite horse
Noo he’s back in Kilkenny
Withoot even a penny
Tae cry in his Guinness wae remorse
A Shepherd's Day by Suzanne Alexander (SA)
Wee, from East then West!
Seen one side then Next.
Feel a beautiful day, start is laid
Sjoe, from sting of Ray.This said,
Baa, from Ewe - distinct face!
Moor from one side at annex she graze,
Aye mi smeel yummy scone buttered.
Lighe nam lips whilst I muttered.
Shoo, splish-splash rain came unforseen
raining stairs of rods clearly seen
soil exposed with heathered bole
the red pigment irks the soul.
Ewe, come, sinn cùm sàbhailte!
to the huge bole hole, wee time, to shed.
Close jist ower the way so near,
baa, from rascal Mule , mi clu from ear.
C' mon ye little mule so blue
Safe its here by bole used as hue.
The noo! Mule. He came then settled.
Jack Snipe seen in marsh nestled.
Far in the distance a thunderclap
Meat today with pap.
With money earned just a little.
and hands brittle.
As the rain drops snipes my face,
Content I am to run , this race
Yet a sadness for unfair wage
But joyful not being in a cage.
Day, from graft then came night
Hame my manor is in sight.
Safe the ewe and mule I put,
aye, that'll dae. Day in tear and joy shut.
It started as an ideal dream.
Summer sun shine all things warm
And dreamy seemingly....
Until it was SHREADED by a nightmare!
A real plightmare I cried FEAR!
What is this HERE! Sure I'd like to
Share this scare! Where where!
The EXIT NOW best can't rest have
To QUIT I was at the beach. Here
The GIST OF this. At the beach the
Burning sand 100 degrees ravaging
These feet! Heeey heat heat! Trying
To contain my panick had to be
Discrete. Can't let the imposing
populace see my antics. I ran for
The ocean FULL FLAILING MOTIONS!
aah! Feels so good. But nah noo!
A TSUNAMI?! How would I if I could
I should I escape this H2O ARMY!
Its intention is to overwhelm me
But IEEE! Fought and struggled and
Aaand what? I sprang up and searched
The darkness? Gasping grasping
And gripping the AIR?! Ha! Nothing there!
A nightmare RIGHT HERE?!
VBR Black Pantherrrr! Val
JET Blackest ANSWERERRR!
Tak oor grund from beneath oor hurdies
Burn oor birches aside the lough,
Besmirch hard fecht fur freedom,
Dictating oor days tae come,
No from the pint o a gun,
Fae laws an promises broken.
Lees an lees spout forth like watter
Lives expended as if they dinnae matter,
Feel the Jacobite spirit again,
Ready tae fecht like scotsmen again,
Like warrior poets risen from the glen,
Fae the mists o the past remember,
Oor freedom wis wun sending Edward hame,
Yon wis the past a new war begun noo,
No wi claymores ,targes an guns,
This time its ideals an Eton buffers,
Those who wid sell oor birthrights
Tae mak us slaves an servile peasants,
Using stealth ,treachery an unco ither weys
Rogues they be crooks ,cheats and thieves
Seeming beyond reproach wi things hidden
Frae us puir mortals aye they wull dae us doon,
Sic a time as this tae fecht fur whit is oors
Naw mair begging fur aa few scraps
Fae a table fu wi guid things ,
Scraps urny fur us we ur free loons
Burthit free an deeing we wull be free,
Ur ye ready tae rise yince agin?
Andrew P mcintyre 14/09/2020
Misty muted days in Scotland
part before you
making room for your own silence.
Now Beinn Mhòr's summit is under my feet
There was no spectacle,
no one to shake hands with.
Yet as I stood, shakily at the top,
looking down
upon 'Loch na Keal' far below,
I felt like a real climber.
That night back at an Isle of Mull pub
an old timer,
(a small dog at his feet),
leaned toward me.
He appeared to be blind
and used a white stick.
He politely inquired
had I gained the peak?
With some pride I declared
that I had conjured the mountain!
He supped his beer thoughtfully.
”Aye laddie,
tis good to stretch yor legs a bit,
I used to climb her twice a day
but yer see
yon wee dog is getting old noo.”
I paid for his ale and quietly left.
Hicky tricky
De do DA uoo
Honds mee ear all nit looon
Ther noo pce o tha Minn
Hicky tricky mee ll tha nit
Ounds off restet dooog bunches us off
Nooo ghtt of mooo to avvvail
Ioses foom naighboitrs noo keeps to USS all not
Hicky tricky
Meee ll
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
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
Caren, whose poetry sings with grand plumage,
swims with bouquets of flowers and such. You
inspire me! And aloha to William :)
HAWAII
Bird of paradise, plumeria, jasmine,
orchids, gardenia, hibiscus, primrose.
Aloha sea — paradise welcomes thee.
Cup of gold, elephant’s ear, fuchsia and firecrackers.
Lantana, glory bush, pineapple and Waikiki.
Queen Emma lily, prickly pear, silversword and sugarcane.
Hawaii islands erupting with ecstasies —
scents that rise the temperature, hues that squeal with desire,
cascading sounds of God’s mirth, adventure on steroids.
Come in, ebb and flow in dugout boats - leis floating
upon the deep-blue skies. Your hearts are pounding drums.
Don’t be shy. Grab this shelf of paradise. Don’t let go.
Aloha friends! Let’s all be friends. Planes fly in.
Koa, coconut, ‘ohi’ a lehua, candlenut, monkeypod,
noni, and lemon-scented gum. Mahalo nui!*
O’ahu, Maui, Kaua’i, Big, Lana’i and Moloka’i —
find your serenity, your northern shore, the allure
of life. Grab yourself a blue hawaii, piña colada,
mai tai, mimosa. Fill your cups with Eden’s fruit.
8/19/2020
*thank you very much ma-hah-lo-noo-ee)
WHY DO YOU ALWAYS MIND MY FAULT?
What make you so special?
Why do you love seeing me falling?
Who appointed you to be my judge?
How come you are always on my case?
What should I call you, my guidance Angel or my destroyer?
Why do you allow me to make mistakes while you know I am making a mistake?
Why do you wait until I make a mistake before blaming me?
What do you know about me that I do not know myself?
Why do you enjoy when I made a mistake?
When will you come to my rescue?
Where do you fit in my life?
Can I rely on you?
Ooh noo!!!
Making a mistake is part of learning.
Learning through error and trial.
Show me the correct path.
Allow me to learn.
For better me.
*elohim-*adonai-*el-shaddai-*jehovah * jireh *rophe *nissi *m'kaddesh *shalom *tsidkenu *rohi *shammah
THREE IN ONE
el-lo-heem*
a-do-ni*
&
el-shad-di*
je-ho-vah*
yeer-eh*who provides
ro-phay*
who heals
this day
my nis-see* above me
&
m-kad-desh* to sanctify
your shal-lom*
to make me whole
tsid-kay-noo*
make me right with you
ro-ee*
shepherd
sham-mah*
always there
Surely a country with it beauty is it wealth
Come visit not just the big city but it towns
Once you see the rustic charms they'll give
Take a tour through hills yon mighty glens
Life shouldn't be all bustle and strife relax
Awhile, visit the Isles, take a walk up braes
Nothing will fill your lungs like the fresh air
Depart noo oan yir journey have yir holiday
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