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John Scott Poem
On Summers eve-you danced by night
On sweet-scented breeze by the campfires light
Your flaming hair-locks swirling wild-
desires and passion you did rile.
My Gypsy maid from Clare's sweet paths
from Donegal to Dublin's streets-
and a brothel there called Clancy's Meat.
You tease me wildly my Gypsy flame-
you enthral my being with your game-
You tempted the man-of another's wife
Into his heart you plunged your knife-
my Gypsy Maid from Clare's sweet paths.
There was a Galway lass so fine
but you stole me away from her-
then broke my heart my Gipsy maid.
My money so-you so freely took-
left me poor-as poor could be
my Galway lass so far from me.
Where are you now my Gypsy maid-
are you dancing round another's fire
as you fill his heart with false desire
Or are you back in Clancy's Meat-
charming those you choose to greet.
a poem/song by john scott
Copyright © John Scott | Year Posted 2016
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John Scott Poem
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
Copyright © John Scott | Year Posted 2016
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Details |
John Scott Poem
I used to watch you from the street
as I passed as often as I could
you never saw-you never looked-
up from your desk-or understood
the desire I have for you
I wanted often to take your hand
hold it tight-could you understand
would you surrender all your love to me
if only I were truly free
the desire I have for you
A lovers kiss-their sweet embrace
I close my eyes you touch my face
like lovers do when sweet song sings
on bended knee-would take my ring
the desire I had for you
So lonely in my life-in love completely
with another's wife-not mine
she couldn't understand-
to love the other of another man
the desire I have for you
I still watch you from the street-
I still pass as often as I can-
you never look-you never can
you could never really understand
the desire I have for you
Copyright © John Scott | Year Posted 2016
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Details |
John Scott Poem
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
Copyright © John Scott | Year Posted 2020
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