by Neil R MacCallum

Click here to listen to this in Real Audio read by Marilyn Wright

This poem is for aw the unscreivit poems,

for aw the thochts ma hairns

wald fain rax out, yet haena.

 

This poem is for aw the flytins

agin our puir tired out blae-nebbit societie

that hae never been screivit.

 

This poem is for aw the sangs that

aye seem unsung, and nae dout sall be

thru aw the stoures tae come.

 

This poem is for aw the unscreivit buiks

that were gaein tae dae sae much,

yet nou are aye-bydin in ane mind alane.

 

This poem is for aw the counter sermons

that were ettlin tae be preached

agin the dour and dowie nicht.

 

This poem is for aw the unscreivit poems

that hae never been haimmert out

tho certes are there awricht.

 

This poem is for aw thon and mair,

for that whilk comes syne gaes

and whyles leaves us Makarless.