div ye mind?

[unicorn]

This was an ode to Dan Murray, a much renowned fisherman of his time
OOR DANS DREAM



Let this be a warning to all those who may be contemplating
Taking up fishing as a hobby:

Oor Dan had a dream that he had quitted this life,
Said guid-bye tae the fishin’ and guid-bye tae the wife:
Before passing away he packed rod, line and reel,
Spinners, flees, and his baits, he took them as weel.

But when Peter espied all this fishin’ gear,
He said tae oor Dan “You’re a fisher, I fear,
And as fishers are leers, of course, you must go,
And join your fishin’ mates, “way doon below.”

But when they were standin’ by Jordan’s fair river,
Dan saw a troot rise, it fair made him quiver;
He got mounted fu’ haste, Peter gazed on in wonder,
As Dan hooked and landed a bonny fower punder.

Then Peter tae Dan said “ I wish you’d show me
How tae catch troots wi’ what ye ca’ a dry flee.”
But Dan said tae Peter, “Man, wi’ this hae a go,”
And he handed tae him a wee pot of roe.

Peter thought it was jam, but his very first cast,
Saw him intae a whopper, aye firm and fast,
And when it was landed, Peter danced round in glee,
And shouted tae Dan, “Man, this bates your dry flee.”

Then Dan shouted to Peter, “ye’ve naething at a’.
I’ve something tae bate roe, dry flees an’ a,”
So oot in the boat went the saint and the sinner,
Peter managed the oars, while Dan spun the spinner,

Then all of a sudden, Dan saw a tail swish,
He struck and cried—“ Hell, I’m intae a fish!”
It towed the boat here, it towed the boat there,
Sometimes it jumped nigh ten feet in the air:

The boat kept gan round, Peter felt kind o’ seek,
But Dan kept on fechtin’ and got oot his cleek,
Twa oors now had passed, and the fish it was game,
But came yince ower near, and Dan sent the gaff hame.

And when at land last, on the bank it lay still,
Dan felt in his pocket and took oot a gill,
He gave Peter a dram (a wee ane, nae doot),
But a sixty pund salmon deserves mair than a troot.

Then Peter said, Dan the law ye ken states,
Nae fisher can enter the Pearly Gates.”

“Nae fishin’ in Heaven,” quoth Dan, “ Then by heck,
Gie’s my ticket tae Hell, and a pass-oot check,
I never could sing and I never could flee,
So a harp and wings wid be nae guid tae me.”

Said Peter, “Right o’, for spinners, roe and flees,
I,ll gie ye a pass tae come oot when ye please:
Ye’ll act as my boatman, and teach me tae fish,
What mair can a man that’s damned ever wish?”

“ Right ye are, then,” said Dan, “That’ll suit me just fine,
I’m begginin’ tae wish that I’d died lang, lang syne!”

[trix]

these are choost great guys

i hope ye ken am gona be printin them oot til read them ma 'auldies' next week....?

they gona be delited

thanks again....

[Sporran]

Written by Sporran, inspired by Castlegreen and John Horne


Fa minds 'e days afore Dounreay, an' a' that came wi it?
'E days afore yon beeg steel dome on Kaitness shore did sit,
Wir 'e life an' times muckle better then, afore 'e atom men came?
Or did ye welcome them wi open airms, kennin' things wid niver be 'e same?
Fa minds fowkies, eh? Fa minds?

Fa minds fan Thirsa wis choost a wee toon, choost full o' local chiels?
Fan rarely a soothern towngue wis heard, that wis difficult til conceal.
All 'e fowkies spoke broad Kaitness, no' English lek King or Queen,
Except fur Thirsa Castle fowk, an' a han'full o' ithers seen.
Fa minds fowkies, eh? Fa minds?

[trinkie]

I mind ‘e days in Kaitness, fan I was yeoung and free
An played aroon e’ Poltney Braes, richt doon by ‘e sea,
I gethered shells and stonies and coonted wan, two, three
An laid them on e’ window cill for all ‘e world till see.
I mind lads, weel I mind.

I mind ‘e days in Kaitness fan we all set off till school,
Wi shining shoes, an weel scrubbed broos, all set till play ‘e rule,
For teachers there were very strict, an widna stand a fool
Fa widna pay attenshun an acted lek a mule..
I mind lads, weel I mind.

I mind ‘e days in Kaitness sitting in ‘e class
Dreamin o’ ‘e efternoon, I’d be running ower ‘e grass
Pickin’ up ‘e Gollans, an pit them in a glass
Then off I’d go tae grannie, for ne’er a day did pass.
I mind lads, weel I mind.

I mind ‘e days in Kaitness on Sunday efternoon,
Up till ‘e Barrogill Hall an ‘e hymns we loved till croon,
Wi Sinclair Lyall at ‘e front his words goan roon an’ roon’
In ma heid, I closed my eyes in prayer, Oh Loard may I ne’er fa’ doon.
I mind lads, weel I mind.

I mind ‘e days in Kaitness fan snow did fall all day
We trudged home for wur sledges an off we went till play
Doon by the Shore Road, the bairns so glad and gay
Pushin’ an shovin’ oot the road, cheils fa’s in their way.
I mind lads, weel I mind.

I mind ‘e days in Kaitness, we went home sockan’ weet
We’d played in ‘e snow for hoors an’ hoors, and noo wur very feet
Were dirlan wi ‘e cowld, an it was comin’ on till sleet.
But mammy made a good hot drink, an a biscid for a treat.
I mind lads, weel I mind.

I mind ‘e days in Kaitness oot playin’ in ‘e dark
Hidin’ in e’ Ould Backies, makin noises for a lark
Till frichten all ‘e mannies going home efter work
But wan wad always catch us an’ make some rude remark !
I mind lads, weel I mind.

I mind ‘e days in Kaitness when summer days were warm
An we set off for a picnic passing Mertins Farm
Ould Poll MacBeath wad wave till us, her hert so full o’ charm
We made wur way till ‘e Trinkie, where waves were seldom calm
I mind lads, weel I mind.

I mind ‘e days in Kaitness when ‘e Herring Boats cam in
We stood aside ‘e Pilot Hoose, the Bay our eyes did scan
For the first glimpse of a boatie, then off till ‘e yaird wi ran
Till tell ‘e Herring Lassies and the busy Cooper man.
I mind lads, weel I mind.

I mind ‘e days in Kaitness when the Herring Lassies sang
An the yairds were full o’ smell an noise, the Silver Darlings rang
Oot the bells o’ Kaitness, an a’ the foulk amang
The streets of Week an Lybster joined in their herts and Sang
I mind lads, thank Goad , weel I mind.


Trinkie's effort, inspired by Sporran, Castlegreen, John Horne and all the others... many thanks to them all.

[karia]

Fantastic Trinkie and you too Sporran!

[Sporran]

Thank you for the compliment, Karia!

Brilliant, Trinkie! I thoroughly enjoyed your poem!

[trix]

agree wi Ak

brilliant til 'e both o' ye's.

cana wait til read it til ma wifies an manies.

sad news tho, aine o' ma wifies died last nite, its a shame she didna get til hear them, she wid o' thoroughly enjoyed them...

she wis a 'kaitness lasagie'....

rest in peace betty x x

[trix]

heres anither aine fur ye's

AE MOUNTAIN DEW

ae mountain dew is noisy
when filled wi' a trauchled few
boot far else wid ye get ae news
an' be sure id's really true.

ae half o' week wid be soarted yit
an' a lok o' fowlks lugs wid burn
if they'd only stan' an' lissen
an' let every cheil gets his turn.

for they've seen all ae 'happenin's
an thir philosophy's some'hin' gran'
if ye'd on'y stan' back an' lissen
an' try til un'erstan'.......

ats by isobel salmon

[south view 7]

The Cooper
if ye lived ower in Polteny Toon,
way back in "22
an"yir faither wis a cooper
an"he wisna on ae "broo",
then ye can hould yir head up high
an"walk wi" honest pride
for ae cooper wis a journeyman
an expert at his trade

ae coopers they depended
upon ae fishing crew
till catch ae bonnie herring
an" keep ae barrels fu".
ae fisher girls were ready,
wi" gutting knife in hand,
to dress the "Silver Darlings"
for export to a foreign land.

those days are gone for ever,
yet may history relate,
tales of Wick in all its glory
with the herring in full spate.