Aug 042011

By Tom Shepherd. 

Idle banter, useless prattle
Blether, gossip, tittle-tattle
“Have you heard?”
“No, what’s the matter?”
 Scuttle-butt and empty chatter.

Vacant news and hollow lies
Scarring friendships, breaking ties
Neighbours gossip, rumour mills
Seeds of distrust sown, great ills
Harvested without a care
People once who trusted, stare.
Curtains twitch and heads are turned
Lovers part and colleagues spurned.

As threads through which we all relate
Are severed by fear, doubt and hate,
Where honeyed tongues drown honesty
In stagnant mire of false decree
When speculation, most uncouth,
With hateful slander strangles proof.
Let voices soar, cry from the roof;
“Whatever happened to the truth?”

Image credit: © Guy Shapira |




Nov 122010

By Tom Shepherd.

Wee drookit, soaking, rained on lassie
Fit wye d’yae nae tak yer coat wi ye?
Yer soakit tae yer skin an’cauld
An’ affae sniffly.
Yer dolled up fine fer clubbin’, aye
But worse off now.

Doun Union Street an’ Windmill Brae
Ye totter wi’ a partial sway.
Aw glammed up fae a grand night oot
Wi’ pals an’ fellers.
But wind an’ rain or hail an’ snow
Aren’t strangers tae us.

Ah’d feel sae sorry for you freezin’
But you can’t feel it ‘cos yer bleezin’.
The morn you’ll nae doubt wake up sneezin’
Wi’ a hangover.
Oh, to be young an’ hack the weather
With nae jersey!