0
Roon O
Babygro
Mama
Wah Wah
Heid like a neep
Waarm and wee
Pink bud asleep
Oan wur tree.
25
Here Ah strunt, the warld’s room’s mine
Richt on sang, gallus, free!
Ah’ve aw the plans an aw the time
A dizzen cities beckon me
A score o different weys tae wend
A hunnert fowk tae mak ma freen.
A thoosand new-farrant thochts tae send!
The heichs are blue, the glens are green.
50
Ah ken bi noo Ah’m likely through
The middle merk that ligs atween
Though sun’s still high, twaloors is by
The morra rings in douce yestreen
An yet, as Ah gang sloomin doon
Fae salad days tae glen o greetin
Ilk morn wi rosy hope is croonit
The daw yet sends the grey cluds fleetin.
75
And noo, hauf-hoodit in the haar o Time
The Baddies come ridin in ower the faur lea.
They’re aye in the distance, a blearie wee line
Kickin up sic a stour, they hide fae the ee.
Ah noo an again gliff them; they’re ilka ane there
Arthritis, Angina, the aul Werr and Terr.
Their daithly braith jeels me, Ah tell masel, Naw,
A wee tummy twang, it’s naethin ava,
Jist a wee sniffle, whaur’s the cough cure?
Need a new telly, soond’s affa puir
Nae faur intae gloamin, nae muckle tae fear,
But naethin’s mair siccar and naethin’s mair clear
Amang thae pale riders a black-hattit ane
Has whittled lang syne ma name on his gun.
100
Was coorie in
Canna lang last
Nae muckle future
Bit …..whit a graun past!
Mary McCabe
Mary McCabe 