The Kendlers
- Details
- Published on Friday, 01 March 2013 18:34
- Written by Maggi Kaye
- Hits: 4993
The Kendlers
Sune efter lowsin-time, wi the milkin’ dune,
Dae ye mind o slippin’ saft-fittit
Awa to the hill?
Dae ye mind the white mist lyin’ laigh I’ the howes
An’ the bum-clock breengin’ bye
I’ the gloamin’-hush sae still?
And syne, gaun linkin’ hame I’ the mirk, wi’ the hoolets cryin’,
And a wee, sma’, curly mune catched low
In the birken tree;
Wi’ the auld whin-rits left happit ablow their buss, forgotten;
But heaven’s ain glory melled wi’ the mune and the whinny hill
And the love-licht in your e’en?
An’ your ainsel rowin’ a wheen auld rits
In your harn-apron, an’ happin them safe and snod
In the beild o’ a buss –
Giud kendlers thae, ablow the parritch-pot on the swee
For the morn’s morn; and dae ye mind on the lad
That fleeched for a kiss?
D.M.P