Dec 012011
 

By Bob Smith.

Here comes the Retail Festival
Cooched in glossy Christmas cheer
Spen spen spen the shops cry oot
Their merchandisin moves up a gear

Maun we owerspen at Christmas
On presents aat leave us skint?
Mony fowk are left in debt
So aat shops can mak a mint

Christmas time itsel a fear
His lost it’s freenly glow
Fowk tryin to see faa can hae
The dearest presents on show

A sma present ti faimly members
There is nae hairm in iss
Bit keepin up wi the Joneses
Is some fowks idea o bliss

Hunners o poonds they are spent
On presents fer aa yer freens
Kids yammerin fer the latest
Toy or game shown on TV screens

Hotels an restaurants filled ti the brim
Yet their prices are ower the tap
Faan wull aa iss madness eyn
An prices wull stairt ti drap

Faimly Christmases used ti be
A time ti visit an hae a blether
Yet ti sit aroon the table
Nooadays fowk they dinna bither

The festivities noo a fear
Hiv naething ti dee wi the 25th
It’s aa ti dee wi consumerism
Spenin dosh on expeensive gifts

In case ye think a’m a scrooge
Tak time ti stop an think
Fit’s the purpose o aa iss spenin
Ither than bringin ye ti debt’s brink

It’s time fer a revolution
A time ti say stuff yer stuff
Resist the aa empowerin persuasion
Pit the retailers in a huff

Celebrate Christmas? Of coorse we shud
Yet think fit shud be deen
Raither than buy a material gift
Jist present yersel as a freen

©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie”
Image Credit: © Sergey Sundikov | Dreamstime.com

Nov 242011
 

By Bob Smith.


Silence we need noo an again
Yet it’s affa hard ti find
Aabody fleein aroon at sic a rate
Takin pairt in life’s daily grind

Silence wid be a bonus
Fin we jist sit aroon an think
Yet afen silence passes by
t’s past afore ye blink

Silence on a bonnie day
On a hilltop far fae toons
Watchin the cloods floatin by
Is een o life’s great boons

Silence fae noise o motor cars
Or mobile phones eynless  ringin
Silence jist ti rest yer brain
An ti hear the birdies singin

Silence is a gift ye ken
An een nae afen gien
Wi chatter, clatter an bangin
Silence seen becomes yer freen

A “Silence Day” we shud hae
Fin ti scraich an yell’s a crime
An raakin up the decibels
Wid git some a hefty fine

Silence tho micht be nae gweed
Ti an aul body bi thersel
Silence wi naebody ti spik ti
Wid bi seen as a livin hell

It canna be ower muckle ti ask
Fer fowk ti be a bittie quairt
Iss micht jist hae fowk smilin
Fin silence it taks pairt

©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2011
 Image credit: © Craig Hanson | Dreamstime.com