By Bob Smith.
|
A new player on the scene Ti keep the gairdens bonnie Oh michty me oh fit a flap Jim Milne he’s noo bein accused |
We micht bi seen Stewartie says Noo is ess nae jist scaremongerin? Hats aff ti Jim Milne an his freens Time noo fowks ti aa staan up |
© Bob Smith “ The Poetry Mannie” 2012
By Bob Smith.
| “Fred the Shred”’s nae langer Sir He’s bin strippit o his title Noo jist a plain ex bunker Wi views nae langer vital . Reduced eence mair ti the rank O a mannie in the street Bit still he his mair millions Than fowk ye’ll likely meet . Wull the chiel be maist pit oot Nae langer bein ca’ed Sir ? Is stem cumin oot his luggies? Is oor Fred in a bit o a birr . Forced ti chynge his letterheids Titled stationery wull disappear An cardies sayin he’s a Sir Wull be chuckit on the fleer |
Noo spare a thocht fer Fred There’s lots mair o his creed Titled gadgies linin their pooches Wi the proceeds o great greed . Anither Goodwin we aa ken A bank – bit een o sand As notorious as oor Fred Fer “shipwreckin” oot o hand . The puir mannie’ll hae ti learn An iss he micht weel dread Fin ask’t fit his name is He’ll hae ti say “jist Fred” . . . ©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2012 Image © Alexandr Denisenko | Dreamstime.com |
Trees are fair perfection
Shapes ti please the ee
Soughin in the gintle breeze
Hames fer the birdies ti
Green fin in first canopy
Syne gold in autumn’s glow
Stark fin in winter’s depths
Gales blaw them ti and fro
Shelter ti a traiveller
Fae the faain rains
Hivven ti danderin luvvers
Waakin doon widdit lane
Deein leaves fae the trees
Turn inti a gweed mould
Gairdeners ken the value o
Aat fit is naitur’s gold
©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2012
Image Credit: Mike Shepherd
By Bob Smith.
| There’s jist nithing ti dee Young eens cry in Aiberdeen Iss wisna muckle o a problem Fin I wis aroon seventeen . There wis cafes bi the dizzen Faar ye cwid sit an chat The famous Holburn Cafe Or maybe the Kit Kat . Syne later on alang Union Grove Ye cwid dander wi ease An cum upon The Rendezvous Better kent as Mama G’s . I learnt the airt o duncin At Garlogie, Echt an Skene Syne twis ti the dunce halls In bonnie Aiberdeen . Wednesdays – Abergeldie Jazz Club Ti listen or jive ti Sandy West Setterday – doon ti “The Beach” Faar Leslie Thorpe wis at his best . There wis ither eens o coorse The Palace, Douglas or the Palais Faar ye cwid fin a bonnie quine Ti snog up some dark alley . There wis Rock n’ Roll an ballads Maybe jazz it wis yer choice Played on the latest record players Made bi Decca or His Master’s Voice |
There wis lots o drainpipe troosers Sweaters wi necks ca’ed crews There wis Tony Curtis haircuts An ticht winkle picker shoes . Ti the open air duncin at Hazleheid Ye wid wanner hand in hand Ti listen ti the music Or waltz ti Bert Duff’s Band . On Sundays ye’d “waak the mat” An see lassies bi the score Maybe ye’d bump inti een Ye’d snogged the nicht afore . There wis hullocks o picter hooses The Majestic an a haill lot mair The Capitol an the Astoria Even hid an organ player . Ye ask’d a lassie ti the picters She wis dolled up ti the nines Ye really felt a cheapskate Gyaan in the one an nines . The faavrit meetin plaicies Fer the young an gallus Wis ootside the “Monkey Hoose” Or near the statue o William Wallace . There wis Eric, Bill, Neil, Ian an me We fairly thocht we war dashin Noo we’re aa ower sixty five An rinnin oot o passion |
©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2011
By Bob Smith.
| Ma birthday’s in a fyow days time Anither ‘ear it bites the dust Noo ae present a wid affa like In fact iss een wid be a must . A day withoot ony Eurozone news Een free fae aa doom an gloom A day fin the financial mairkets Are nae beamed ti ma livin room . A time free o news o the FTSE Or foo the DAX is deein the day A time fin a dinna hae ti hear A country’s drappit fae a triple A |
A day fin the mairket prices Are nae seen as a holy grail A day free fae bliddy economists Haein a greet an a bit o a wail . Nae Cameron, Sarkozy or Merkel Tryin ti tell us aa fit needs deein A day fin we can enjoy oorsels An nae listen ti the buggers aa leein . So TV moguls an Press barons Tak heed o iss puir mannie’s plea Jist gie us aa a gweed present A day we bide Eurozone free |
©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2012
Image Credit © Andy Brown | Dreamstime.com
By Bob Smith.
| Christmas Eve in the 1940s A myn o’t as tho’ twis last nicht The livin room fire wis aye bleezin An aathing wis bonnie an bricht Paper chines hung fae the ceilin A Christmas tree wi didna hae A’d scriven ma letter ti Suntie On Christmas Eve on the wireless Ma lang sock a wid lave hingin up Awa ti yer bed ma mither wid say
|
Fae ma bedroom winda a peered oot Ti see Suntie’s reindeer in the sky Bit nae maitter foo lang a lookit They nivver wid cum wanner’n by On Christmas morn a hash’t ben Ti see if ma letter hid bin heeded A aye wis maist affa feart ye see Maybe Suntie he cwidna read it Afore ma verra een there wis Stappit in the lang sock ye’d fin Christmas it wis a time fer bairns Noo fowk awa back in the forties . |
By Bob Smith.
|
Listen ti the havers fae Trumpie MK 2 Noo the windfairm folkies widna be cowed Contempt, dishonour, he shud ken aboot iss |
Contempt an dishonour they’ve hid fae his faither Potty an kettle, iss wirds spring ti myn So greet in yer porritch Donnie ma loon |
©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2011
© Mark Rasmussen | Dreamstime.com …. 3 windmills
By Bob Smith.
|
Here comes the Retail Festival Maun we owerspen at Christmas Christmas time itsel a fear A sma present ti faimly members Hunners o poonds they are spent Hotels an restaurants filled ti the brim |
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 In case ye think a’m a scrooge It’s time fer a revolution Celebrate Christmas? Of coorse we shud
|
©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie”
Image Credit: © Sergey Sundikov | Dreamstime.com
By Bob Smith.
|
Silence we need noo an again Silence wid be a bonus Silence on a bonnie day Silence fae noise o motor cars |
Silence is a gift ye ken A “Silence Day” we shud hae Silence tho micht be nae gweed It canna be ower muckle ti ask |
©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2011
Image credit: © Craig Hanson | Dreamstime.com
By Bob Smith.
|
A meadow ower on Tullos Hill A maun confess a love fer trees Ye’ll hae wild flooers an ither plants Doonamang aa the grasses Hay meadows are rich in earthwirms |
Noo meadows provide nesting grun It’s reckoned ae hail acre Anither species faa wull benefit Jist ti waak throwe a meadow So awa wi yon feel ideas |
©Bob Smith”The Poetry Mannie” 2011
Image credit: Suzanne Kelly.