Friday, 23 October 2015

Wha's Mental???

Wee bit of poetry in Scots for ma twa wee witches. #poetober continues...

"Ken, yer maw's mental!"
That's wit the bairns a' cry,
Tae ma twa queans,
Wha climb up trees,
An' jump oot tryin tae fly.

"Ken, yer maw's a loony!"
A've heard the bullies say,
While twa wee lassies
Squelch in mud
An' hunt for sticks tae play.

"Ken, yer maw's a nutjob!"
The bored wans fret an' tease,
But laughter fills
Ma sweetheart's ears,
As they imagine a' they please.

"Ken, yer maw's a ____"
But they've caught the wee yin's eye,
An she's stuck them wi
A look sae fierce
It'd make the de'il die.

"Ma maw's no a nutter,"
Her cackling voice explains,
"She's a witch,
Who brews up spells,
Tae transform nasty weans."

"Intae a' sorts o' monsters,"
Her sister comes tae add,
"That eat their taes,
An' breathe oot smells,
That couldnae be mair bad.

Her powers are Tremendous,
Yer right tae look sae scared,
For come the night
O' Hallowe'en,
Ye better be prepared."

An' noo they've got them runnin',
As they shout "She's after you!
But the thing ye'll wish
Ye'd ken't the maist,
Is that we are witches too!"