Bill Wright

The old man looked up, glasses on head
Sitting in his own chair, by the fireplace.
Aye, I know what you want to do, he said
As he went to the table, and cleared a space.
...

'Don't you worry', the weatherman said,
'There is no hurricane coming tonight'
The dreadful sounds would awake the dead,
Poor old Michael, you didn't get that right
...

(With apologies to Billy Joel's 'We didn't start the fire')

Hot day, seaside town, party ‘til the sun goes down,
Rollercoaster, Ghost Train, Punch and Judy's on again,
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The pipes sound, wailing and skirling,
Heather clad glens come into view,
Snowy peaks dot the horizon.
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What will become of Scotland
What if Alex gets his way
Will independence be the answer
Or will Scotsmen rue the day
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I watch the disc go round and round
Music throbbing in my head,
A premature obituary for the poor old record
Vinyl is no longer dead.
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Oh dear, where did they go,
Another ten years have passed,
I'm pretty sure this decade has gone,
Much quicker than the last.
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Who the Devil am I,
And what have I become
Why on Earth am I here
In life what have I done
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They say that life was much simpler then,
In the days when I was a boy,
For most folk money was pretty tight,
So you often made your own toy.
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I do not own an Iphone 6
That does not bother me,
So I will never encounter
The dreaded Error 53.
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This country can be a miserable place,
The wind blows, and it pours with rain,
Some years it might get very cold,
And we see snow once again.
...

It's raining outside,
Think I will give it a miss,
You don't really expect me,
To go running in this!
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Christmas is a happy time,
With family, presents and food,
Goodwill we wish to all men,
And toasting the common good.
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Indo-China, a land of contrasts,
Of beauty and the beast,
Conflict after conflict,
And mankind at its worst.
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I'll always remember
Our walks up the Braes
A regular feature
Of all those Sundays
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I am blue and shining. Three dimensional.
I reflect everything you see.
My view depends on where you stand
Accurate, distorted - the choice is yours.
...

Clang

Clang, clang, clang
The rivets sang,
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The last train rumbles out
The smell of soot fills the air
Midnight strikes.
Late night revellers stagger home
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Wow, I recall Varanasi.
The spectacle, a kaleidoscope of colour
A cacophony of noise. Crowds milling
Devotedly. Mother Ganges in full flow.
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Yes, I love Edinburgh
The smells, the sights, the sounds
The Festival, autumnal August
Wonderful. The crowds up on the Mound
...