By Bob Smith.
Faar his imagination gin
We hid it as a loon or quine
The ability to see things differently
As on fantasy oor myns wid dine
The winner in a young een’s face
Fin they listened ti a tale
As adults we’re far less creative
Oor myns hiv aa gin stale
Lie back an close yer een
An lit yer myn gyang free
Syne conjure up some images
O placies ye’d like ti be
Imagination can tak ye onywye
Ti Africa or maybe the Orient
Or aroon the Scottish Highlands
An ti Paris syne on ti Ghent
We need ti free oorsels o
The shite oor myns are fed
By the TV an ither media
As oor imagination it is bled
Lit loose yer imagination
Gie yer myn’s ee its release
Try an let it float awa
Ti a placie o distant peace
©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2014
Image: http://pixabay.com/en/innovation-invention-boy-idea-151833/
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