Beds
I haud the shougly mainframe till it's steady, you fit the siderail sib till they are wed, we screw thegither slats and suin mak ready the new bocht self-assembly pine-wuid bed.
Our auld ane wis gey duin, it's mattress sunk, wi us sailed out ower faur on life's lang sea. Aiblins this snod and weel-faured double bunk will tak us hame tae win the final quay.
You and me baith: whit is it that we big? An ark in time, that sails through joys and pains, an ower-coupit boat, wanchancy rig that aw our fuilish hopes and fears contains, whaur we twa dream our nichts and love and lig, until the day we need twa singel anes.
By William Hershaw From Fifty Fife Sonnets - Coarse and Fine (Akros, 2006)
Poem supplied by the Scottish Poetry Library |