Month: April 2014

 

 

 

    

 

Hangin’ over the bridge, peeking for broon trout,

too warm for your gansie the day.

Bin bags filled with water

splitting their sides,

laughing at her Arbroath joke

about soup.

 

Gas mantels, flax seals, the Troubles, bingo wins, trainee beekeepers. Being scunnered, trees, jokes about wind, photees of the Tay rail bridge. Culverts and herons, a mallard, the Ferry, pulleys for the washing. Grandchildren, comics and songs and the plastic cable ties that sometimes dinnae work.

 

Stories,

friendship,

the burn.

 

Cheerio.

 

 

 

 

He calls me ‘little spuggie’.

Sorry Edith.

But I’ll take it,

its nice.

My second gift,

a still life of Dutch compare,

funny and brlliant.

I smile.

And lastly,

they show me how to eat jaffa cakes

properly.

Apparently I’ve been getting it wrong all these years.

Ta.

 

 

 

( spuggie is Dundonian for sparrow.)

 

 

 

 

Hi ho.

hi ho,

its off to work……

‘An’ wha’s ‘Grumpy’ the day?’

Burnt grass,

Black Watch.

A cold under baked morning,

not fit to rise.

 

But,

 

Shiny boots and woodpeckers,

buzzards and mibbe a newt, but na’.

Macaroon bars at a celtic game,

the lade,

the ponds,

the Watchie,

the ghosts……..

fun- sized mars bars,

and,

meeting a childhood friend not seen for thirty years.

 

Braw.