Harvey Holton, Scottish Poet lives in North Fife just 3+ miles as the corbie flies from my home at Flisk. Harvey writes in Scots which at first seems a wee bit odd but as was explained to me, if said as read then the sense becomes self evident.
Sirens
Hear the beauty o sang owre wave wash
Puuin the soul safe through the seas
Tae pound oan rock raised bi wuid splinter
Fer frae saft safely leavin ainly daiths ease
Sing noo the sirens sair in city streets
Sigh o the times quick passed pavements pass
Blue licht flashin fower wheels breengein
Noo life savers wurkin haurd daith tae ootclass
Blind reactions workin hidein still an unner class
Bomb blasts in a city street in a first world
Bluid an ile dreep fre weapon stock haun held
Bluids frae the same sailors lug an hert
The ain sang the cauld sang a cauld weld
O the contracts shiftin bield tae the streets sang
Winde the wailin machine mak the noise noo
Attentions fur tae attract the lug tae abstract
Tae whaur the bunkers are the safe bits an that’s true
Listen listen the sang is singin fur you
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