Paddy Scott Hogg Poems

And how I love to kiss your lips
Not your lips on view
Those succulent lips I know
The sweeter taste of you.
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The poet’s role is to rebuild
The soul of man
From broken fragments fallen
In an age when inhumanity’s confusion reigns
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Why I agree with Robert Burns about Pomp. Patrick Scott Hogg
Cumbernauld, Scotland 1990

Let me declare it, before it is guessed,
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This night the stars in glory reign.
The old moon hangs, begins to wane.
Daylight's fled to darkness hurled,
O'er the axis of a rolling world;
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I see the other seabirds fly
Soft glidin’ thru the air;
Motionless in the summer sky
An’ long to join them there.
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When Winter's westlin' winds dae wail,
An' wild waves crash in blustry gale
Against the cragged rock:
There, at the Mull, amidst the foam,
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And how I love to kiss your lips
Not your lips on view
Those succulent lips of your poosey
The sweeter taste of you.
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When the sense of longing comes too strong to resist
Where e'er I am or have ever been
No matter who or when
The huge beech tree we used to swing from
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Here’s the primrose on the knowe
Here’s the rhododendron bough
Here’s the bracken turning gold
Here’s the lillies bloomin bold
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'Can you hear them, Can you see them
Marching proudly, across the moor
Hear the wind blow, thru the driftin snow
Can you see them, the Ghosts of Culloden'
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