The Last To Cuddle Doon

A few days ago I told you about the poems that my Dad used to recite to us and reproduced the first one in the series. Today I give you the next one but I warn you, you will need to have the tissues at the ready.

I sit afore a half-oot fire
An' I am a' my lane
Nae frien' or fremit daun'ers in,
For a' my fowk are gane.
An' John that was my ain gudeman
He sleeps the mools amang-
An auld frail buddy like mysel'-
It's time that I should gang.

The win' moans roun' the auld hoose en',
An' shakes the ae fir tree,
An' as it saughs it waukens up
Auld things fu' dear to me.
If I could only greet, my heart
It wadna be sae sair;
But tears are gane, an bairns are gane,
An' baith come back nae mair.

Ay Tam, puir Tam, sae fu' o' fun,
He faun' this warld a fecht,
An' sair, sair hauden doon,
Wi' many a weary wecht.
He bore it a' until the en',
But, when we aid him doon,
The grey hairs there afore their time
Were thick amang the broon.

An' Jaimie wi' the curly heid,
Sae buirdly big and braw,
Was cut doon in pride o' youth
The first amang them a'.
If I had tears for thae auld een,
The could I greet fu' weel,
To think o' Jaimie lyin' deid
Aneath the engine wheel.

Wee Rab- what can I say o' him?
He's waur than deid to me,
Nae word frae him thae weary years
Has come across the sea.
Could I but ken that he was weel,
As here I sit this nicht,
This warld wi' a' it's faucht and care
Wad look a wee thing richt.

I sit afore a hlaf-oot fire
An' I am a' my lane,
Nae frien' ha'e I to daun'er in,
For a' my fowk are gane.
I wuss that He what rules us a',
Frae where he dwalls aboon,
Wad touch my auld grey heid, and say-
"It's time to cuddle doon."

Third and final part will follow soon - if you can take it!

The King's Speech - verdict - you have to go and see this great film!