Waking In Wolf Light (15 Scots Poems) Poem by Sheena Blackhall

1.The Castlegate's Mary
The 7th panel carved at the top of the Mercat Cross in Aberdeen's Castlegate, is that of Mary Queen of Scots. After the Battle of Corrichie, Lord John Gordon was executed before Mary in Aberdeen.

Queen Mary views her subject in the toun
A Catholic cross deep-cuttit in her goun
A merble unicorn still stauns abune:
An Honi soit qui mal y pense, forbye

Gulls ootraxx their braid wings tae furl aroon
Their screichin mellin wi the traffic soun
Dis Mary ee thon courtin quine an loon?
Ah, Honi soit qui mal y pense, the cry.

Aince, aa fur luv o Mary, at the foun
0 this toun cross, her Scottish lords cast doon
John Gordon, heidit wi a mortal woun
Bit Honi soit qui mal y pense, the sigh.

A lass, she thocht fair France the mapamoun
0 aa her joy. Flooers at her feet war strewn
In Embro, Knox turned lauchter tae a froun
Bit Honi soit qui mal y pense, sez I.


2.Heraclitus: A Scots Owersettin
Heraclitus' poems were known as 'nightingales'.

It gart me greet, wird o yer daith, auld frien,
Myndin foo whyles at gloamin-tide we'd spikk
Oor claik wad turn the sun intae the meen
An noo I'm telt that yer bit stoor an rikk

Tho Hades micht hae taen ye tae thon airt
Far aa maun gyang, yer poems will sing yer praise
Upon the branches o ma steidfaist hairt
Fur poems are daithless in the Buik o Days.


3.Advice Tae Veesitin Scholars Tune: The Dundee Weaver

Ye delegates frae as the airts convened in Aiberdeen
It's planned tae takk ye towrin aroon the local scene
The whisky at Glenlivet beats a tequila slam
An kitties up yer speerits, sae be sure tae takk a dram

Syne aff tae Cawdor Castle far Macbeth wis ance a thane
Ye'll see it in the sunshine, bit aftener in the rain
An weir an Afghan Burkah tae keep the midgies oot
An pray the anely bites will be upon yer een an snoot

Culloden Muir is dowie far the flooer o Scotian fell
An ilkie man that stauns there, maun face its ghaists himsel
There's nae a single kintra, that hisnae felt the stoun
0 war an confrontatioun, o skaith an battle woun

An fin ye reach Kildrummy ye micht hear a skreich or twa
The blacksmith traitor Osbarn, bit mair nur he could chaw
The English gaed him gowd tae reward his treachery
They meltit it an poored it doon his thrapple for a fee

Ye canna come tae Scotian an nae jyne a Ceilidh daunce
As weel drink Earl Grey in the Moulin Rouge in France
They'll birl ye an kerfuffle ye, in eichtsome reels an knots
They fairly like their jigs an jinks the contermaschious Scots

Sae as ye furreign delegates come listen here tae me
Ye canna come tae Scotlan an nae gyang on a spree
Oor howfs'll gar ye hooch wi their firey usquebaugh
Sae here's tae lear an fellowship, guid confiers, slainte mha!


4.The Auld Line, Ballater

The bumble dauchles in the meadow-sweet
The ragged robin brichts the river's bank
The geans are swaalled, reid-chikkit on the stem
A rabbit lowps, hett-fittit, swank o shank

Hyne ower the birks, the kirk bell's clapper tongue
Clangs. In the larick squirrels showd the boughs
The sun spreids meltin gowd ower puils o Dee
The ivy furls the aik in emerant towes

Wee trootlins brakk the portal o their hame
Breenge up, gowp air, takk fleg, syne splyter back
A saftsome breeze sets ilkie jinkin leaf
A-jiggin ower a hurcheon's jobby back

Twa creashie grumphies in a ferm neuk
Lie laired, twa tubs o lard wi sappy snoots
At the glen tap, sun bathin in the yird
Frae deep inbye the wid, a hoolet hoots

July's the month fan man an breet may sup
The hinney frae the Simmer's crucible
The harebell hings abune her dweeble stem
Blue as the Heivens afore Auld Clootie fell.


5.At Arbuthnott Kikyaird

St Ternan's kirk stauns dour
In the reid stoor o the Mearns
Fifteen hunner years without a flittin
Surviving reformation, lowes, the antrin extension
Raxxin its dimensions, or teemin the stoup
That held the haly watter

The kist o Hugh Le Blond hauds the banes
0 a cuckoo corp..the perk's o being a son
0 a belted laird.

A kist o fussles, like Pan's Pipes swalled
Tae the heicht o a muckle waa
Pynts tae the kirk reef, a heeze o moosewabs
Ootbye a brock's howked oot his beeriet hoose
Blaik an fite, as clean-cut's Guid an Ill
Nae hauf wye meisurs fur yer Protestant.

Ower the dyke, the corn growes fat fur hairstin
Rattlin in the breeze like rosaries

The merkers ower the mools are a dominie's register
Naethin byordnar, barrin a muckle buik

Dowped in a neuk, bearin the name o the Mearns's
Famous screiver, weel laired fur his Sunset Sang
Preenin him doon aneth the wecht o his fame

Yet still, his wirds jink aff the typeset
Firey's the nettle hidden in the sheugh
Haudin a reid stang in its green leaves
That's warm bit stings betimes.


6.Dugs on the Cat Wauk
Press Report: Feb 25th 2008: German& Belgian Police dogs in Dusseldorf are getting blue plastic fibre shoes to protect their paws from broken bottles near pubs

Hae ye heard the news o the Dusseldorf dugs?
They're getting braw new plastic sheen
They'll think that they're waukin on Persian rugs
As they sniff roon each German shabeen

The dugs at Auld Rayne'll be wintin the same
Wellies mebbe, or strang hikin buits
While Yorkies an Wasties'll bauchle in safties
Fin they're oot stravaigin the streets

In the Champs Elysee, poodles perfumed an gay
Will be hyterin aboot on stilettos
Frae ahin they will luik as they corner each neuk
Like candyfloss on fower cornettos

In ikie pooch parlour frae Cairo tae Cannes
Fowk are busy designin new trainers

Fur dugs great 'n' sma.
Gin their prostate's awa
There'll be holes in the soles for pee-strainers


7.Croc Shock
Press Report: 26th June 2008- Drinkers in the Australian out-back invite crocodile into their watering hole

A pub fu o lads feelin boozy
In Australia's oot-back, nane ower choosy
Took a croc in the bar, cryin `Gie her a jar
She's got winnerfu teeth fur a floozy! '


8.Penguin on Parade: Tune: Jock McGraw, the Stootest Man in the Forty Twa
Press Report: 23/8/2008- Nils Olav, a three foot high penguin from Edinburgh Zoo, was knighted on behalf of King Harald V of Norway, and adopted as the official mascot of his Royal guard.

A penguin bides in the Embro Zoo
His heid is black bit his bluid is blue
For the king o Norroway quo ae day
makk him a knight an a mascot tae.'

Nils Olav wis thon penguin's name
Bit noo he's a Sir in the haas o fame
He's the Colonel in Chief o King Harald's guard
Touched on the shooders bi the Royal sword

A fanfare played as he waddled oot
Tae inspect the troops frae hat tae boot
Bit at three fit high Nils anely saw
The sodjers belts an their buckles braw

Fin Norroway's sodjers tae Embro come
Tae jyne the tattoo wi pipe an drum
Nils Olav's hairt it'll swall wi pride
The best-kent knight on Morningside


9.Tae a Bag o Floor

Wee sonsie bag o hale-meal floor
The sicht o ye makks me feel dour
Tho I am telt ye are the cure
Fur constipation
Redemption's in yer gritty stoor
Tae save the nation

White floor, that millers eesed tae yield
In hefty bannocks aince concealed
The carbohydrates that congealed
In rock hard faeces
Till double chins an kytes revealed
Ower muckle pieces

Sic is the fate o modern man
That aa maun hae a diet plan
An bide awa frae scone an flan
Pie tart an cake
An stick tae hale-meal broon an blan
For oor hairts' sake

Sune, ilkie meal tae pass yer mou
Wad be mair fittit fur a coo
Wi roughage in't tae gar ye chew
Strang teeth, nae savour
White floor is a mirage that noo
Is ooto favour


10.Boars Galore
Press Report: June 1 g 2008. Berliners are being pestered by boars rooting up their gardens. One broke a man's leg when it entered his living room and he tried to shoo it out with a broom.

In Berlin fowk are pestered by boars
Finiver they step oot their doors
Ane, attacked bi a broom, in a chiel's livin room
Tuik nae tent as it chawed his hors d'oeuvres


11.A Dram

At a kistin, a waddin, new face in a pram
Ye'll hear aa the faither's cry 'Let's hae a dram! '

Is't ower caul? Is't ower hett?
Is the gaffer a bam?
The remeid niver alters...it's 'Let's hae a dram'

Yon stunner ye beddit wis mutton, nae lamb
Fa's wyte wis't yer speirin?
Fit else, bit the dram!


12.Horny-Gollach

The horny-gollach disna ken
Fit side his breid is buttered
Because it skites oot frae his claws
Syne baith o them are gutted.


13.Ooto the Cauldron

I gie ye Angus Calder
Son o Lord Ritchie-Calder o Balmashannar
0 the Royal Burgh o Forfar
(An honorary citizen o Jerusalem)

Raise a dram tae this Angus,
(Champion o heidbangers, keelies,
Tinks, nutters, ootlinns, orrals)

This kenspeckle Angus
Fa waukit in Waikato
Killed time bringin sodjers tae life (reid poppies in prose)
Blitzed umpteen myths frae the watter
Brocht Horace tae Tollcross
(A terrible dearth o olives, the poet said
Settlin fur pickelt ingins in a chippie)

There's a wheen mair stumps tae his wicket:
This faist bowler o poetry
This explorer o Rooshun fiction (Pushkin tae Chekov)
This Angus, fa re-acquantit Scotland wi the randy
Deevilick-bardie Byron (Radical or Dandy)
In the auncient bulks o the wab,
This Angus is said tae cairry the bluid o
Fortun Ortiz Calderon, still-born an dowped
In a cauldron, till his greets let aabody ken
He wisna fur bylin.
Likewise, the Norman Knight, Hugo de Cadella,
Rins in his femoral artery
An wi'oot twa wirds o a lee
This Angus cam doon frae the Cawdor Thanes o Nairn.
There is likewise a queer auld bodach, a tinker-fiddler
Ayont the wids o Birse...we'll let thon flee stick tae the waa

Sae raise yer glaiss tae this Calder,
This poet o roch clear water
Wi the toast o the queen's ain Heilanders:
Cabar Feidh Gu Math: The deer's horns forever!


14.Angus Calder, Embro's Bard: tune Maggie Lauder

Born wi Scotland in his veins
(his faither cam frae Forfar)
Tae Cambridge, gaed, tae learn his trade,
A scholar and a screiver
He kept alive 'The Peoples' War'
The Empire an its Culture
He weirs the poet's laurel wreath
His name is Angus Calder

The wark o mony's an eident Scot
He edited an gaithered
On Scott, MacDiarmid, Byron, Burns
He pondered ower an blethered
Gin ye stroll doon auld Embro toon
Ye cud dae war nor daunder
Inby a bar tae tak a jar
An news wi Angus Calder

Some can screive o history
In boredom's thoomb screws squeeze us
Whilst ithers threip on endlessly
Aboot some stoory thesis
Bit gin ye seek a lichtsome claik
On Barbie, theres nae baulder
Or tales o Winkie, best o doos
I gie ye Angus Calder

Gin fowk war cups tae quench yer drooth
Some wad be flat as watter
An ithers be as wersh an soor
As swyte frae Nero's oxter
For wit an lear, baith douce an clear
A malt o rarest order
For hame an haa, a man for aa
His name is Angus Calder


15.Traffic Jam

Fit's adee? Fit's adee?
This bus hisna moved since hauf past three!
There's a taxi o quines in ballet frocks
There's a steer o fishermen up fae the docks
There's a pipe band marchin, twenty loons
Wi a drummer in leopard skins duntin the tunes
There's seagulls skreichin ower the melee
Far is the haud up? Fit's adee?