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A doric poem
composed by John Henderson on 27th August, 2008,
in memory of Henry Duncan, Aberdeen, Washington, USA, a nature
lover.
Ah hard a wee bit sang
Thit treetled through the trees -
Nae lood, nae verra lang,
Lik ither melodies .....
Bit jist the swiddery moo-bannin o an oonkent bird.
Ah raked baith in an oot,
An leuked aa times an tide,
Ah scoored the wids aboot,
Tae fin faar it micht bide .....
Hodden weel an ne'er frichted fae its saicret hichts.
A speeshal ain indeed,
Wha chirmed tae me ae day,
Ah narhan unnersteed
Fit it streeved tae say ......
Mebbe 'twis, "Ging an lea me flee an aet in peace."
"Fit is wull, maun aye bide wull,
Ah fuspered ta masel,
Widder it's a hungerin gull
Anse a sparra-hawk sae fell ......
Far less thon hairmless oonkent bird fa sang wice wirds tae me!" |
