Treasure Island

Charles M. Moore

(1953 june / Glasgow Scotland.)

Annie


Annie wid ye walk wi me
an let me haud yer haun
sic fair a haun a ken wid brek
mans hert ye understaun
an we could walk doon
through the glen tae Arrochar the day
me watching lochside watters lap
yir footsteps oan the way

Annie ye sair mak ma hert burst
through ma timid breast
fur I hiv loved ye always
like a man that dies o thirst
ma een has fair been blighted
ony time I looked at you
so much so that ma tears when fallen
mingle wi the dew

Annie hiv ye ever seen
the stars oot oan the moor
in darkened silence they appear
fur you o that I'm sure
if you an they wid ever meet
I'd say withoot a doot
on seeing you am sure that they wid
turn their sparkle oot

Annie yer fair cherry creamed
complexion fulls ma een
the fire, in yer rid hair
maks me think that you'r a dream
fur where could sic sweet beauty
huv been made upoan this earth
the gods in heaven must hiv sighed
when you wur given birth

Annie if we walked an talked
there widnae be anither
fur none could mak ma hert say proud
as us aye being taegither
for a' the suns and moons and stars
or aples in the trees
could tak away the love a hiv
if you wid walk wi me.

Submitted: Monday, February 27, 2006
Edited: Tuesday, March 27, 2007

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  • Linda Ori (8/4/2012 6:07:00 PM)

    Absolutely wonderful, Charlie! A girl would swoon to hear those words breathed upon her ear. Love the Scotish brogue....you do it so well, but then, I guess you WOULD know how to do that. If this is not in your song list, it should be. (Report) Reply

  • Ben Gieske (7/21/2009 7:56:00 AM)

    Charles, I really enjoyed reading this poem with all its wonderful images. Your capturing of the way people talk in that area flavors the message beautifully and gives it a lilting sing-song tune. (Report) Reply

  • A . (6/5/2006 12:52:00 PM)

    I also read this trice but didn't understand clearly.: ( (Report) Reply

  • Anna Russell (3/21/2006 9:53:00 AM)

    Aye, Rabbie lives - and ye ken as a Scot I dinnae say that lightly. Beautiful, lilting song and dance of a poem. My dad calls me Annie, so that made it even more special.
    Hugs
    Anna xxx (Report) Reply

Read all 8 comments »

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