Yer windae attempted tae smile
Hame tae blossom
season aifter season,
wunnerfu’ blossom
that ripened.
Aye, the jam wis braw!
Yer loon sailed the seas –
Jam needs sugar!
Ther’s a sad story in that.
Auchenglen, yer roofless noo
braw hame tae a pair o’ Barn owls
They greeted me through yer glassless windae,
made me smile.
Gold-leaf albums
An Antiquary
odd, in these days!
old family albums –
gold-leaf
fraying at the edges
Hard-bound
lifeless moments.
Artfully-posed
eyes stare back
meaningless, lost
without their stories.
Postcards from a Transatlantic Turbine Steamer
You worried about your fruit,
Your Art was an orchard,
the Wharry was your hame.
Three postcards arrived at Drumdruils.
In the Science Room is a Driving Clock
Peering into the abstract distance,
William asked his faither –
‘is your main interest light?’
They were in the Science Room,
looking through a telescope
with a mechanical driving-clock
and two escapements!
The following month,
William, a pilot in training
was in a plane that lost flight.
The Science Room had no answer.
ALT ROY
takes me
to all that
I have
ever
been
interested
in
Oswald was a Saintly King
WILLIAM, ALEX and ROBERT
In Bernstein’s ‘Tri-Tone’
there is such vibrance.
In Oswald Bates’ Library
you are missing.
Pagan Kings of Mercia.
Doctors of sadness,
footnotes and forget-me-nots.
Bernstein’s TRI-TONE.
Wee Mary
Mary, wee Mary
we met at Darngavel
in our secret shape of time.
Thank you for being my sister.
‘Also the above mentioned’
Lesmahgow, yer churchyard!
Sixty years since, and mair . . .
Beyont his grave, Walter Scott affrontit!
The past, various pasts
no longer half-remembered.
Mary Scott’s exercise books
Mary, I found you in an old suitcase
from the Orchard.
Handwritten exercise books
written by you
at your piano.
Art outlives us.
F L A U B E A R
We are t r a n s i t i o n a l
it is FOLLY to think
o t h e r w i s e.
Remind me –
‘What sort of bear are you?’
No, please dismiss this SILLY question!
It is immaterial.
Together, let us continue
this beautiful, impossible adventure.
Yer faither wis a projectionist
Yer faither wis a projectionist.
The night before you drowned
‘ten people fainted’ in the Regal Cinema:
the showing of the ‘Birth of a baby’.