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.
