Apr 062012

By Bob Smith.

The first season o the ‘ear
Heralds the fresh breath o Spring
April shooers weet the grun
Birdies ti nests they cling

Syne the time o Simmer
Wi the sun heich in the sky
Fin thunner micht be rummlin
An yer skin can stairt ti fry

Simmer’s deen an it’s Autumn
Wi the leaves nae langer green
Fairmers they still wark the lan
Bi the licht o a gweed hairst meen

Fae Autumn inti the Winter
Wi it’s dark an broodin skies
The sna lyin’ deep an crisp
Ye’re maist affa sweir ti rise

The vagaries o oor climate
Am sure some wull agree
Are better fin yer hearin
“The Fower Seasons” by Vivaldi

©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2012
Image Credit: Elaine Andrews

Jun 182011

By Bob Smith.

As ye growe aul dis yer brain retire
It sure dis cause ye frustration an ire
Ye myn fine fit happened in 1952
Fit ye did last wikk-ye hinna a clue

Ye meet an aul freen fin oot a walk
And aa ye can dee is taak an taak
In the hope ye can myn the mannie’s name
An ye dinna hae ti hing yer heid in shame

At the bottom o the stairs ye ken fit ye wint
Fin ye reach the tap yer brain its got tint
Were ye up for a hankie or maybe a purse
It fair maks ye hae a bit sweir or curse

Ye watch an aul film an the leadin lady
Her name Ah’m feart it is a bit shady
Is it Jane Russell or Yvonne De Carlo
Her hair is dark so it’s nae Jean Harlow

Name aat song-ye  shud ken it fine
No it wisna sung bi Sydney Devine
Wis it maybe written bi  Rodgers an Hart
Or Sammy Cahn or yon Lionel Bart

Ye can myn faa scored in the final o’ 59
The twa teams involved comes ti ye fine
Nae sae sure faa played last ear
Neen o them comes ti myn – oh dear!

Yer ain name of coorse ye myn it weel
So maybe yer nae sae bliddy feel
Bit faa’s aat wummin ?- it’s got ye licked?
Forget yer wife’s name an  yer erse’ll get kicked

©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie”
Picture © Pathathai Chungyam | Dreamstime.com