Scotsman Poems - Poems about Scotsman

A Scotsman voyaged through the highlands Thickly covered with lush, purple heather Kilt adorned and bare, his regions nether Feeling breezy on this, a grand endeavor He trekked across enjoying balmy weather Heather gray sky and ben blend together Through the loch did wet his boots of leather The effort causing removal of his sweater Warm with heather yarns the colours speckle He laid...

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THE FLYING SCOTSMAN In the suburbs of Scotland, a star was shone, The humblest being the nature’s child, Dared to dream the strangest dreams, Sailing the ship through the wildest storms! The determined will, the hurdles though aplenty, The childhood seemed as an ordeal, an everyday battle that he fought, The little child courageously suffered the harshest blows, Emotions accompanied the tears that...

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Big Ben strikes ten, depart Kings Cross. Squeal of tight wheel, where lines criss-cross. Clickety-clack. Clickety clack. Now heading north-bound on fast track. Leave city sprawl in grey and grime for now we're on East Coast mainline in rural space, expanse of green, where all around, countryside scene. My window view is flashing by, too fast for focus of my eye. Field after...

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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...

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A Scotsman who searched for a wife was tired of his solitary life; he dated a few, before people knew he rogered the cattle in Fife... for Charles' contest apologies to any Scotsmen!...

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The Flying Scotsman went from London to Edinburgh, keen, And to remind us of security and nature it was painted green, I knew, had dinner with one of its drivers Who said it was one of his best endeavours, ‘Cos he always knew where he was going and where he’d been....

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With a snakelike hiss, the train doors close the engine rocks and rumbles on clicking over welded metal couplings: iced, glazed, froze, the steam heat in clouds arose, rail licking. On velvet we sit, lace behind our heads, stewards bring tea for the clock is ticking. High tea at five, we're fed like thoroughbreds for dinners late (at eight) in formal...

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From Edinburgh’s Waverley to Kings Cross At journey's rest before terminating chaos, Winding through the serene countryside Spying a glimpse of the North Sea tide, Rolling along in my soul a rhythmic song Dismissing the world and all that’s wrong, At our head the streamline ‘Silver Link’ Amazing speed pressure gauge to the brink, There I was with pad and my faithful pen A...

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