Yella

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem

Driech Lothian of downcast clouds holds glows

Of rapeseed fields of flowers, their yella trite

With brightness since the population knows

The truth.  They know that grimness flows from night

In Scotland from the murder of the queen’s

Braw English consort, Sassenach and Scot.

The fowk ken well that royal murther means

That lover of the queen spews bluidy blot

At Kirk o’ Field.  In Lothian the hue

Of yella is condemned to darkened stain

Of red forevermair.  The wycest view

Of slaughter leaves a lang-term, landscape reign.

  So yella does not lift the canny heart

    But grips a Scottish pootermanny heart.