Minstrel's Tales

Stories From a Guitar Case

Poem for the Day - The Wild Geese by Violet Jacob

Posted: 14 March 2018

Poem for the Day 
In case anyone was in any doubt Scotland has many wonderful poets apart from and, the equal of Burns. Here is one of my favourites.

'Oh tell me what was on yer road, ye roarin’ norlan’ Wind,
 As ye cam’ blawin’ frae the land that’s niver frae my mind?
 My feet they traivel England, but I’m deein’ for the north.'
 'My man, I heard the siller tides rin up the Firth o Forth.'

'Aye, Wind, I ken them weel eneuch, and fine they fa’ and rise,
 And fain I’d feel the creepin’ mist on yonder shore that lies,
 But tell me, ere ye passed them by, what saw ye on the way?'
 'My man, I rocked the rovin’ gulls that sail abune the Tay.'

'But saw ye naething, leein’ Wind, afore ye cam’ to Fife?
 There’s muckle lyin’ ‘yont the Tay that’s mair to me nor life.'
 'My man, I swept the Angus braes ye hae'na trod for years.'
 'O Wind, forgi’e a hameless loon that canna see for tears!'

'And far abune the Angus straths I saw the wild geese flee,
 A lang, lang skein o’ beatin’ wings, wi’ their heids towards the sea,
 And aye their cryin’ voices trailed ahint them on the air –'
 'O Wind, hae maircy, haud yer whisht, for I daurna listen mair!'

The Wild Geese
 Violet Jacob

Poem for the Day - First Sight of Spring by John Clare

Posted: 13 March 2018


The hazel-blooms, in threads of crimson hue,
Peep through the swelling buds, foretelling Spring,
Ere yet a white-thorn leaf appears in view,
Or March finds throstles pleased enough to sing.
To the old touchwood tree woodpeckers cling
A moment, and their harsh-toned notes renew ;
In happier mood, the stockdove claps his wing;
The squirrel sputters up the powdered oak,
With tail cocked o’er his head, and ears erect,
Startled to hear the woodman’s understroke;
And with the courage which his fears collect,
He hisses fierce half malice, and half glee,
Leaping from branch to branch about the tree,
In winter’s foliage, moss and lichens, deckt. 


Poem for the Day - The Pig by Anonymous

Posted: 12 March 2018

Poem for the Day 

It was an evening in November,
As I very well remember,
I was strolling down the street in drunken pride,
But my knees were all a-flutter,
And I landed in the gutter
And a pig came up and lay down by my side.

Yes, I lay there in the gutter
Thinking thoughts I could not utter,
When a colleen passing by did softly say
‘You can tell a man who boozes
By the company he chooses’—
And the pig got up and slowly walked away.

The Pig

Poem for the Day - Let Me Be The Pickle In Your Cheese And Pickle Sandwich by Bill Adair

Posted: 10 March 2018

Poem for the Day
Following on from yesterday’s rather cheesy poem.

Let me be the pickle in your cheese and pickle sandwich,Let me be the butter on your toast.
Let me be the dressing that you season all your food with,Let me be the taste you love the most.

Let me be the drizzle in the lemon cake you’re baking,
Let me be your favourite type of brie.
Let me be the brandy that ignites your Christmas pudding,Let me be the cream in your cream tea.

Let me be the sherry that you pour into your trifle,
Let me be the goldfish in your bowl.
Let me be the tonic in your Tanqueray and slim-line,
Let me be the lemon lying on your Dover sole.

Let me be the doughnut that you dip into your coffee,
Let me be your toffee apple stick.
Let me be the bed socks that you warm your frozen feet with,Let me be the dish you always pick.

Let Me Be The Pickle In Your Cheese and Pickle Sandwich 
Bill Adair

Random Haiku #32

Posted: 10 March 2018

Random Haiku #32

Is letter writing
The latest thing in texting?
Send a card at least.

Bill Adair

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