Thare Be Days

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
We were doing a mime workshop on the theme of Overcoming Your Fears of the Unknown. That night I happened to be watching an episode of Outlander and this poem came to me in my sleep. Special thanks to Graeme Montrose for his help in getting the Scottish accent down.

Submitted: April 25, 2016

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Submitted: April 25, 2016

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Thare Be Days

by Peter van Gorder

Thare be days whan I awauken tae the dreid o the unkent

Wondering whit this day micht bring.

Whit if…?

Whit if a boobrie swoop doun and snatch one ane ma cous in its gigantic claws?

Whit if Nuckelavee wi black blood pumping in yellow veins chase me aw the way tae the Watter of Leith

Whit if a shapeshifter terrifee me oot of ma propriety?

Whit if a hellhound wi bellowing cry try tae cleuk an attack me thinking I’d be robbing its treisur?

Be nou that I think aff it, I ken I’ve niver laid een on ane.

Up tae this date tis no been ma fate tae meet nary a ane o thaim.

Be that dinna mean that thare not oot thare somewhere – perhaps in anither dimension or time?

In the mean time I’ll enter the day wi a word o prayer

That the storm will gae an aw will be fair.

Thare will be mony a pleasure tae mark ma way

Upon this bonny day

A cup aff hearty Dalreaoch tea tae take aff the chill

A steaming bowl aff Cock-a-leekie soup

Boiled gigot aff mutton or lamb, Rumbledethumps, Fatty cutties

Festy cock, Fruit slice, flee cemetery, Granny sookers, Hawick balls,

Jethart Snails,  Lucky tatties, Moffat toffee, Oatcakes, Petticoat tails

Strippit baws

 A morsel aff breid washed doon wi some honeymead tae slack yer thrist

Atholl Brose – prepared using oatmeal brose, honey, whisky, and sometimes cream (particularly on festive occasions)

Drambuie, Ginger wine, Het pint, Heather ale

Telling stories by the crackling fire wi friends

Singing a sang aff jubilation wi flute an pipe an drum, tin whistle, Clàrsach Lumanach, Lamont harp, accordion, bodhran, 

A walk amang wild flowers ower glen an moor

Take yer ease aneath a spreading chestnut tree

Close yer een and imaigine heiven

Listening tae the birds in spring.

Washing yer face aneath a cuil running burn.

Feeling refreshed an reborn

Riding a horse ower the glen

Talking wi ma Savior an receiving His love

Kenning ma hame is in glad lands aff eternity.

 

 


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