Another book on sale this one's titled 'Annonymous In Stoney' all proceeds to charity. 

Stan Bruce and Jean Kemlo

My parents met an elderly woman 'Jean Kemlo' while on holiday and mentioned my poetry, she is 82, nearly 83 now.

My mother sent her down a copy of my book  'Bard o' Buchan Vol 1' which she enjoyed very much. She took the book along to the group at the local old folks home and started reading / reciting some of my poems, she said that usually the old folk in the group don't have much to say and the group meetings are usually a bit boring, but not this time as she recited from the book the folk came to life as each place in Buchan was mentioned they recalled their experiences and memories of the past and the whole place was buzzing for a change, she'd never seen anything like it!

Jean had written three poems and she then sent them to me to use (Wanting to be kept annonymous hence the title).

With no idea what to do with these I went through my photo collection and dug out all my photograph's of Stonehaven (Stoney as known by the locals) and put them alongside her three poems, I wrote some of my own to go with hers and researched some interesting history on Stonehaven which I then inserted.

So I then had around fifteen pages, this I then sent back to her in the post with another three pages added but left blank with the text 'Jean to add a poem here'.  A couple of weeks later the booklet returned with the three new poems, I inserted these and thought it's still a bittie slim so I did some more digging and researching and added some more pages.  I added Jean's name to the front as the author and mine as the editor and photographer. 

With 26 pages I then got fifty colour copies printed and took then down to Jean, she phoned the next day to say they were all sold, so I went down with another fifty, same thing a call the next day they're all gone.

Now Jean's been asked to recite two poems every month for the talking newspaper so I'm delighted for her and we're now going to print another two hundred copies (Paper supplied free by DNV in Aberdeen). Money raised is going to Dunnottar Church, the local Alzheimer's group and the unit Ardoe in Stonehaven hospital where the patients need 24 hour one to one care.

Quote from Jean "Stanley you've opened up a whole new scene for me, wishing you all the best, and thanking you for giving me so much of your time and inspiration, yours Jean".

Stan Bruce
26th January 2007.

Junk Mail

I’m gonna sack the postie, cos I’m fed up wi’ him,
He only brings me junk mail, that ends up in the bin,
I dinna want life insurance, that I can never use,
Foo should I leave my money, tae pay for ither people’s booze.

I dinna need a funeral, I think I’m still alive,
And I dinna need double glazing, tae help me tae survive,
The winkle cream, sent to me, was said tae be a perk,
I’ve thrown it in the dustbin, because it disnae work,
I dinna need breast enhancement, I’d rather sag along,
And the tape I got o’ Crosby, is nae my favourite song.

Keep fit might be really fun, but I couldnae stand the strain,
And the cheap holiday tae Torremolinos is nae use, as I canna flee on a plane,
Thank you for the invite tae test the latest car,
But, I hinna got a licence, so I couldnae tak it far.

But junk mail keeps me smiling, fin it lands upon the mat,
So keep the rubbish coming, I winna sack Postman Pat.

Jean Kemlo,
(Octogenarian)
Stonehaven.
2006.

Looking for Some T.L.C.

My daughter gave a gift tae me,
A plant as bonnie as could be,
It floored in its plastic pot,
Thinks I, that’s a beauty I hiv got.

Noo mam, she says just keep it wet,
Feed it well an’ dinna forget,
Tae keep it growing strong and free,
Gi’e it plenty o’ T.L.C.

I listened tae her guid advice,
An’ thocht it wid be rather nice,
If I could shop aroon an’ see,
If I could find some T.L.C.

I went tae every shop in toon,
Searched the shelves up an’ doon,
There wis a lot o’ garden aids,
Waterin’ cans, rakes and spades.

There were stacks and stacks o’ D.D.T., wi’ 30% extra free,
But nae wye could I see at a’, a single tin o’ T.L.C.
Mi bonnie plant began tae wilt,
An’ I became consumed wi’ guilt.

It hung its lugs in the plastic pot,
An’ lost the battle it had fought,
An’ a’ because it trusted me,
Tae gi’e it lots of T.L.C.

Jean Kemlo,
(Octogenarian)
Stonehaven.
2006.

In Our Young Days

We were born before television, penicillin, polo shots,
Frozen goods, plastic, video, contact lenses, ball point pens,
Dishwashers, tumble driers, electric blankets and drip-dry clothes,
We got married first, and lived the gither efter (how quaint can you get),
A Big Mac wis an outsized raincoat,
And a bit o’ crumpet was fit ye hid for your tea.

We existed afore house husbands, computer dating, dual-careers,
Sheltered accommodation wis far ye waited for a bus,
We were born afore day centres, group homes and disposable nappies,
FM radio, word processors, yoghurt, young and auld men wearing earrings.

For us, sharin’ meant togetherness, a chip was a bit o’ wid (wood) or a fried tattie,
Hardware meant nuts and bolts and software wasnae a word,
A shid wis fit ye fastened yer collar wi’,
And going all the way meant riding on the bus tae the terminus,
Pizza’s, McDonald’s and instant coffee were unheard of.

Grass was mown, and coke wis kept in the coal shed,
A joint wis a bit o’ meat ye hid on Sunday’s, and a pot wis fit ye cooked in,
A gay person, was the life and soul o’ a party,
AIDS meant a beauty treatment or helping somebody in trouble.

We must hae bin a hardy bunch,
When you think on how the World has changed,
Nae wonder we’re confused, and there is a generation gap,
But by the grace of God we hiv survived, tae tell the tale.

Jean Kemlo,
(Octogenarian)
Stonehaven.
2006

Anonymous in Stoney (pdf)

---

Got this in from Stan Bruce on October 27th, 2024...

Alastair, I hope you’re fit and well, all good at my end. I received these poems from the late Jean Kemlo many years ago, just came across them, and think it fitting if they go up alongside her other poems.

A’ the best

Stan

PS I’m still working on the shipbuilding books, hope to have another one finished soon.

Been busy lately renovating a wee cat B listed cottage at the Brig o’ Balgownie’

The Twelve Days Of Christmas (Or The Ever-lasting Diet)

On the first day o’ Christmas mi true love said tae me,
I’ve bocht a big fresh turkey an’ a proper Christmas tree.

On the second day o’ Christmas, lots o’ laughter cud be heard,
As we tucked intae oor turkey, a really delicious bird.

On the third day o’ Christmas, in came the folk fae next door,
An’ the turkey tasted jist as gweed as it hid the day afore.

On the fourth day o’ Christmas, came relations young an’ auld,
We finished off the Christmas pud an’ hid the turkey cauld.

On the fifth day o’ Christmas, outside the sna’ scurried,
We wir nice an’ warm in the hoose an’ hid the turkey curried.

On the sixth day o’ Christmas, oor Christmas spirit died,
The kids focht an’ bickered, an’ we hid oor turkey fried.

On the seventh day o’ Christmas, my true love he did wince,
Fa’n he sat at oor table, an’ wis offered a plate o’ turkey mince.

On the eighth day o’ Christmas, the dog he ran fer shelter,
He’d seen oor turkey pancakes, an’ a glass o’ ‘Alka Seltzer’.

On the ninth day o’ Christmas, by lunchtime Dad wis blotto,
He kent the bird wis aye on the go, this time as a risotto.

On the tenth day o’ Christmas, we wir drinkin’ hame-made brew,
As if that wisnae bad enough, we wir eating hame-made turkey stew.

On the eleventh day o’ Christmas, the poor tree it wis moulting,
Wi chilli, soy an’ oyster sauce, the turkey wis revolting!

On the twelfth day o’ Christmas, wi a’ hid smiles on oor lips,
The guest hid a’ gone, the turkey too, an’ wi dined on ‘Fish an’ Chips!’

Jean Kemlo

 
Friendship

I hiv a list o’ ma freens,
Written doon in a book,
An’ ivery year at Christmas time,
I ging an’ hae a look.

An’ as I read the list o’ names,
The memories come flooding back,
The folk an’ a’ the places,
Like a suitcase I unpack.

The fun we hid, the laughs an’ tears,
In places far an’ wide,
We watched the bairnies growin’ up,
An’ leave their parents side.

The struggles an’ the hardships,
As the years sae quickly flew,
Though strangers f’an we first met,
Oor friendships grew an’ grew.

Fer a’ the folk that I hiv met,
Hiv noo drifted apairt,
Though we dinna meet that aften,
They’re aye remembered in mi heirt.

So fa’n mi Christmas cards are sent,
Remember me richt here,
An’ thanks fer a’ yer friendship,
An’ best wishes fer next year.

Jean Kemlo


Christmas Wishes

If I cud hae four wishes, FIVE WISHES?
I ken fit they wid be,
I’d wish that a’ the lame cud walk,
An’ a’ the blin’ cud see.

I’d wish that a’ the dumb cud spick,
An’ a’ the deaf cud hear,
Then I wid wish, a’body,
A happy Christmas an’ a gweed New Year.

Wid’n’t it be wonderful,
If the blin’ cud clearly see,
The rainbow in the sky above,
An’ the wee birdies up in a tree.

If the lame cud walk an’ run,
An’ play in fields o’ green an’ gold,
An’ the deaf cud hear a new baby cry,
An’ the dumb sing a song o’ old.

Four wishes I hiv made,
An’ I ken ye’ll a’ agree,
If they cud a’ come true,
The world wid be a better place fer ye an’ me!

Jean Kemlo


Santa’s Dilemma

Santa Claus wis awfa worried,
A’ his reindeer hid the flu,
They a’ hid sair throats an’ runny noses,
Coughed an’ sneezed, wiped an’ blew.

Fit wis Santa ga’n tae dee,
Wi dolls an’ books an’ toys,
He kent they’d tae be delivered,
Tae a’ the girls an’ boys.

Then Santa’s auld freen fairmer Brown,
Said he wid help him oot,
“I’ll gie ye eight o’ mi finest coo’s,
They’ll pull the sleigh, I hiv nae doot!”

We’ve a heard the nursery rhyme,
‘The coo jumped o’er the moon’,
So if on Christmas ye hear mooing,
Instead o’ a jingling bell,
I expect as Santa gid oot the presents,
He also milked the coo’s as well!

Jean Kemlo