Tag: Doric poem

The Quarrelsome Kittens

The Quarrelsome Kittens

The Quarrelsome Kittens Scots-Doric & Illustrations by Teresa Maria This poem is a part of a current project I am working on, to re-tell old poems and stories and translate them into Scots-Doric. Ma Ain Language - Oor Mither Tongue. 1890 The poem seems to have made its first appearance in the Letter’s Page of the: Montreal Daily Witness - Jul 8, 1890 1902 Then, 12 yrs later in the newspaper: Thames Star, Volume XXXX, Issue 10340, 17 May 1902 1920 And finally it was written into a book of Traditional nursery rhymes: "The Quarrelsome…continue reading →
Get On Yer Hoss

Get On Yer Hoss

Written for a friend Get On Yer Hoss Once upon a time… There wis a wee Scotsman livin’ in the land o’ Oz He did ride atop a muckle, grey horse. She wis a canny soul, wi’ a wildness o’ spirit, Wi’ a demon an’ twinkle o’ the eyes. She dreamt o’ gallopin’ across the plains, The wind a’blowin’ thru her mane. And wi’ this she took aff across the land. She ran wi’ energy an’ wind through her hair, An’ the wee mannie, he felt all scairt, The poor wee soul atop…continue reading →
Bonnie Scotland

Bonnie Scotland

Bonnie Scotland Welcome tae bonnie Scotland, land o the wind Tur-bin, Ower by yon bonnie banks an by yon bonny braes, Please jist ignore thon bird-kill, it disnae mean a thing. Ye cannae see the hills fer aw the giant wind-mills, Bit ye’ll no hae tae walk ‘cos they’ve built aw they roads. The tourist advertisin’ will hae tae change their tact, An’ welcome ye wi’ new spiel, tae come an see oor toon, We’ve hundreds o machines stretchin’ tae the moon. Aw the bonnie banks an bonny braes, weel we’ve let them…continue reading →
Doric Ode Tae Wind-Farms

Doric Ode Tae Wind-Farms

Doric Ode Tae Wind-Farms (Written in response to the destruction of the countryside in my area.) Move aside, get oot the way, Progress is comin’ tae oor hills an’ braes, Giant machinery strides across oor land, Neither beauty nor beast can stop the demand. Wi’ diggers and lorries rippin’ an’ tearin’, The countryside noo looks sich a blight, Wi’ churned-up earth piled oh so high, An’ hard shiny roads, land concreted ower. Ripping oot hedgerows, choppin’ doon trees, Destroyin’ the Rookery o’ a hundred years, Scaring awa’ the wildlife, threatenin’ the birds, Mak…continue reading →