New poems in Scots fae across Scotland written by talented young makars.
If you'd like to see your poetry featured here, send your new Scots poems to matthew@scotshoose.com
Rosie Gilmour | Scots poems 2012 - 2017 | ||
Fareweel tae Wallyford A'm aff in June tae spreid ma wings A'm birlin doon the toun tae learn new hings The Primary Seevens ur fleein this nest We're gonnae gie it laldy and dae oor best Ma teachers taught me weel - A learnt hunners! Ma nursery got me aff tae a guid stert That's whaur A learnt the maist important skills The hings that mak ye really smert Be kind and thochtfu, honest and fair Be brave, hae courage, aye mind and share Be patient, content and mak guid choices Nae need tae be crabbit or hae bossy voices Och Wallyford - we've made a guid story ower the years Guid times, some dowie anes as weel Whit matters noo is that we cairry thon story Sae it's a bonnie tale tae tell And Wallyford Primary! Yir flittin soon, tae. A hope yer new schuil is a braw place tae play This auld wee village schuil will fade intae the past Locked in oor herts wi memories sure tae last Sae lang,Wallyford Primary Schuil May aw yer days fill ye wi glee A fond fareweel and a muckle Thank You This is the last . . . Scots poem . . . fae me by Rosie Gilmour Uniform Av goat tae wear a uniform Tae schuil every day It's no like ma playin claes It's black wi a wee bit grey A wish it wis multicullered Like a rainbow in the sky Ad go tae schuil aww cheerie An no be sae shy A wish it wis reid an yellae Thir ma favrit cullers by Rosie Gilmour (Primary 1) | The Thistle The floo'er o Scotland is awfy jaggy It pilled ma claes An now thir raggy A pilled ane oot the groond It jagged ma wee pinkie It's aww reid an sair noo The thistle is a stinkie by Rosie Gilmour (Primary 2) | ||
Ma Schuil Ma name is Rosie Gilmour Am in Primary 3 A go tae Wallyford Primary It suits mae tae a tee Ma teachers name is Mrs Harte She tells mae whit tae dae Readin n writin n whiteboard stuff Paintin n numbers tae At half past ten it's playtime The lassies like skippin n dancin The laddies play wi a muckle blae baw Painfully sair if it hits yir jaw If ye git the boak or huv sair lugs Ye go tae Linda or Kerry If they cannae fix ye they gie ya a hug An yir maw'ill come and git ye If yir no listenin or reidy tae learn ye Git telt tae see Mrs Stratton Shell no be chuffed ye lit yirsel doon Fae daein tae much chattin When the bell rings it's time tae gie hame An am sad cos I'll miss aw ma chums Bit no tae worry, I'll be back in the morn A cannae wait, a jist miss them tons by Rosie Gilmour (Primary 3) | Bak Tae Schuil Bak tae school an aw wrapped up Oot tae the could wi ma scarf n gloves Schuilbag oan ma shooters an ma jam pieces tae Wonderin, will a earn a dojo in ma cless the day Intae ma line, it's the loangest oot the lot Up tae the landin an a tak oaf ma coat Ben tae the clessroom Mr Henry says si doon An am aw ready wishin fir break time soon! Dinnae be a clipe and dinnae act glaiket Dinnae leave yir gymkit or loose yir jaiket Dinnae be crabbit and dinnae be a daunder Dinnae pick yir neb an lit yir head wander Dinnae be a blether or say 'a dinnae ken' Dinnae leave yir hamework, y'll stay in past ten Dinnae be a nebbie an dinnae be a fidget If ye end up wi a caution, ye'll feel a richt eejit Efter ma lunch it's aw fine and dandy Bit whey's stuffin thir face wi Christmas candy! Weel, whit di ye ken, its Linda and Kerry, Nae wonder thir keekin sae merry! First day bak is an absolute scunner When the last bell rings I'm daein a runner Hame tae ma faimly an ma wee braw hoose Tae a muckle choklate biskit an a wappin gless o juice! by Rosie Gilmour (Primary 4) | ||
Haimster Pairty Jings! a dinnae ken whit tae say! Aboot whit's happened since Christmas Day A got a bonnie wee haimster ye see She's jist a bairn, hir names Lily Aww! she wis a wee bit feart the first few days Bit no anymair, she got set in hir ways She wis bitin the cage tryin tae git oot Clingin tae the bars like crash bandicoot Runnin up ma airms, doon ma trooser legs Scurryin the washin an bitin claes pegs Hidin doon the settee an the back o the telly Dreepin o'er a pillae an oan tae ma faither's belly Ma maws face wis lookin awfy peely waly Ma maw an haimsters are no pally pally A tried tae call Lily hame wi a wee bit aiple Till ma faither scooped her up wi the kitchen ladle She's no alooed tae roam noo it's no safe at aw She rolls aroond the flair insteed wi her muckle haimster baw Her cage is foo o toys wi a cosy wee widden hoose An that's ma wee Scots poem ae when Lily got loose by Rosie Gilmour (Primary 5) | Shoapaholic Av goat a passion for fashion An' shoappin fir claes A cud shoap tae a droap Aw day lang, nae bother A gie up tae the Fort tae New Look Fir a jaiket an a froak Then a gie intae H&M Fir leggins, toaps an soacks A wee dauner intae River Island Fir a wee bit glitter and spairkle An a wander intae Next A buy troosers that stoap at ma ainkle Then a gie in tae JD Sports Tak a wee peek at the trainers But ah'm awfy fussy wi the anes a like An a feel like a richt complainer Yu'll no git Doakter Mairtins here though Ye need tae go intae toon insteid See these bits ae mine a cannae tak them oaf Th're the best hings since sliced breid Ah'll need tae git savin fir ma next day oot Sae a kin splash the cash in the sales A cannae wait till a hit the shoaps Sae a can fill ma bags wi claes off the rails! by Rosie Gilmour (Primary 6) | ||
Groonded by Caitlin Heron My ma has groonded me A'm stuck in ma room and Wanna punch the waw I mean it wasney ma fault I write in pure scots I got bad spelling in ma report So that's why I'm groonded Aw alane and bored oot ma nutter Everybudy else is oot I'm stuck In ma room like a right dafty For writing in scots. Whit's wrang with that ? Robert Burns did it and he became Famous. Aw that happens to me is A get Groonded. | Wir Beach by Finnley Manson Da waves is brally strong Aa da rocks is slippery Da muckle waves dunder Da fierce wind howlin Da waves smashin da rocks Sprayin up ower da beach. Da sea is very calm Da waves lap ower da stons peerie wyes I can hear da birds tweetin Aa o da midgies ir attackin me My dug is splashin aroond in da waater When I'm skimmin stons. |