Poet's Place

WEST WEMYSS MARKET DAY 

As I sit alone at evening, there’s a scene that comes to me,
Of a dear wee place in Scotland, that nestles by the sea,
On the rugged coast of Fifeshire, where I spent some happy days,
As I strolled down by the Castle, or along by Dubbie Braes.

It’s a long time since I seen it, for I’ve travelled quite a lot,
But I’ve never had the fun I had in that old fashioned spot,
For there always was excitement and a laugh there I may say,
But the greatest thing that happened, was the West Wemyss Market Day.

When the sun rose in the morning, every man rose wi the sun,
Then they’d gather doon at Duke Street, where the boat race aye was run,
And you should have heard the shouting, they would nearly burst their throats,
And they’d bet a whole weeks wages, as they cheered the West Wemyss boats.

When the boat race was all over, they would quickly disappear,
But you’d find them in the dram shop, dipping fingers in their beer,
Then they’d draw oot on the counter, how the West Wemyss boat was first,
And when they had just explained it, they would once more quench their thirst.

There were games and lot of races, for the young and for the auld,
When the old man’s race was over, well the winner wasna cauld,
But if he had won five shillings, he was proud of his great wealth,
And his pals were always willing, for to go and drink his health.

There was stands that sold you candy, gingerbread and lots of sweets,
And the girls would talk to laddies, as they walked about the street.
And the girls would say “Come on noo Johnnie, shairly sixpence you can spare,
And you ken I’ll no forget you, if you gi’es my Market Fair”.

As the day was slowly dying, then the band would start to play,
Reels and gigs, quadrailles and lansers, and the crowd would all feel gay.
Some of them were feeling tipsy, but they all were doing fine,
And would manage for to stick it, till the band played Auld Lang Syne.

I have been to lots of places, for I’ve travelled quite a lot,
But I’ve never had the fun I had in that old fashioned spot.
And as long as I am living, though I’m many miles away,
I will not forget old West Wemyss, and its glorious Market Day.


William Foster Morgan (d.1946)

submitted by his grand-daughter Sally McMillan

The Wemyss

When I was jist a wee bit laddie
Tae young for worries, plans or schemes
I played aboot the woods and shores
And tramped the fields aroon' the Wemyss

My younger days at Coaltown school
Brocht friendship that still brightly gleams
Aboon the mem'ries o' growing up
Amang the couthie fowk frae the Wemyss

On thinking back I mind the names
And like only yesterday it seems
We palled aboot and mischief socht
Aroon the streets and roads o' Wemyss

I think on a' the lassies fair
That took their turns within my dreams
Alas! They a' were left behind
When I ventured oot beyond the Wemyss

When age and opportunity present
The chance tae drink o' other creams
We tak oor leave, nae looking back
But find oor heart's still in the Wemyss

Upon the firth they stalwart stand
Yet span the world, like radar beams
Tae ca' their sons and daughters hame
Aince mair tae walk the streets o' Wemyss

This poet's muse shows mony facets
Inspiring verse on varied themes
But heart and soul noo tak command
As he ponders on his roots in Wemyss

Tom F. Yorke 2002

When I was but a laddie
The best times that I had
Were walking through
The Earlseat Firs
Trailing ahent my Dad.

The walk I remember fondest
Was o'er the Barrel Brig,
Which reaches across the River Ore,
Near Coaltown Balgonie bing.

They say the Romans built it
To help them on their way,
And if you wander round there
It can still be seen today.

The memories I have of it
Are rare and dear tae me,
For though my Dad is gone now,
He's aye a part of me.

So when I take a stroll there,
No longer with my dad,
You can bet I'm back in time again
When I was but a lad.

JBD 1989 

Coaltown-of-Wemyss

Coaltown-of-Wemyss is a grand wee place
Along the East Fife coast.
I was born and bred there
Although that is no boast.

There's not much entertainment
And there's only one main street,
But it's easy and it's friendly
And very hard to beat.

The people make you welcome
And you'll spend a great weekend
Down at the Coaltown Club House
Where you're sure to make a friend.

And if you are a bowler
And want to meet the crowd
Go to the Coaltown Bowling Green
Where I'm sure they'll do you proud.

Go down the Castle Drive there
Where the mighty Castle stands.
You'll see across the Firth of Forth
Overlooking the West Wemyss sands.

The sound of children laughing
At the local village school
Brings back some happy memories
Of when I played the fool.

And so when you are passing
Some day through this fine wee place
I hope that it will charm you
As it has me, through all my days.

JBD 1990

Bygone Days There used to be a coastal path - Not far from West Wemyss Bay That took you through to Dysart, Many sights along the way. But the one I remember best When turning back the clock Was a most unusual sight to see - A carved out "Man-In-The-Rock"! A poor man chained behind steel bars, I wonder what he'd done But sadly now through wear and tear The whole cliff face has gone. And so to give you all a chance To see the sight I mention I enclose this view of yesteryear To capture your attention! JBD 1994

The Lands o' Fife

O' give me the lands o' Fife
Wherever I may roam
The patchwork hills and narrow roads
Are what I know as home
 
O' give me the lands o' Fife
Where Scots and immigrants fit
Many arrived there with no choice
But to end up down a pit
 
O' give me the lands o' Fife
The birthplace of my auld dad
To remember him going down a mine
Will always make me sad
 
O' give me the land o' Fife
I'd fight for you nail and tooth
'Cause I wish I was back there
Blessed with a new born youth
 
O' give me the land o' Fife
Come on in an' have a wee bit natter
Ah ken you'll have had you're tea
Cause you look a wee bit fatter
 
O' give me the lands o' Fife
You'll not find any finer
But let's praise the fact that none of us
No longer claim to be a miner
 
The time awa' has flown right past
I'm proud of the place from where I cam
But when we get back together
We'll enjoy a wee bit dram
 
So give me the lands o' Fife
That lies deep within my heart
I wished that life's circumstance
Had not made it right to part.

John Butler

Thoughts of a Miner

He walked forward to the cage
A broken man with a saddened heart
Stepping inside , his stomach churned
As the beast heaved into action
The cage shuddered then moved
Taking him and the others
Down to the bowels of the earth
To stay there for hours
Working in the dark, the cold and wet
To earn money for their families
So they may eat and live.

 
Kathy Cox, Glenrothes

The Forth Bridge Disaster  

A wee but well formed Fifer
Was travellin' south wan day
An thocht he'd toss a penny
Aff the brig alang the way
 
He' wance travelled across the Tay  
And did the richt same thing
But he lost it at the Forth Bridge
When the girder broke his string

John Butler

The Boy on the Train

Whit wey does the engine say toot-toot?
Is it feart tae gang in the tunnel?
Whit wey is the furnace no pit oot
When the rain gangs doon the Funnel?
What'll ah hae fur ma tea the nicht?
A herrin, or maybe a haddie?
Has granma gotten electric licht
Is the next stop Kirkcalddy?
 
There's a hoodie-craw on thon turnip raw!
An seagulls-six or seeven
Ah'll no fa' oot o the windae maw
It's sneckit as sure as ah'm leevin
We're intae the tunnel,We're a' in the dark
But dinnae be frichit daddy
We'll soon be comin' tae the Beveridge Park
An the next stop's Kirkcalddy!
 
Is yon the moon ah see in the sky?
Its awfy wee an curly
See! Tere's a coo an a cauf ootbye
An a lassies pu'in a hurly!
He's cackit the tickets an gi'en them back
See gie me ma ain yin daddy
Lift doon the bag frae the luggage rack
Fur the next stop's Kirkcalddy!
 
There's agie wheen boats at the harbur mou'
An oh! Dae ye see the cruisers?
The cinnammon drop ah wis sookin the noo
Has tummelt an' stuck tae ma troosers
Ah'll soon be ringin ma granma's bell
She'll cry " Come ben ma laddie!"
For ah ken masel', by the queer like smell
That the next stop's Kirkcaddy!

Sex Drive

SEX DRIVE!
LATELY-
IN NEUTRAL!

John Butler

Please come to Scotland

My love, my life, please come to Scotland with me
We shall make our home on the shores of the North Sea
Where the wind chills a soul clear to the bone
And the rain, with a vengeance makes itself known

Why to Scotland you ask me now
Why give up our lives, throw in the towel
Because we know this is what should be
In bonny Scotland I have such sweet memories of thee

So when the world gives you one to much
And you think of better times and such
Just come to Scotland and be with me
My love, I promise the best is yet to be


Cynthia Marie Manton

This comment by Cynthia: I really like your web site and thought you might like to place this little poem I wrote some time back concerning Scotland. I am an American but when I am in Scotland I feel like I am home...

Cynthia

"DRIVING TODAY"


As traffic hurtles ever faster
A recipe for sure disaster'
Monumental risks are taken
Regulations are forsaken
Lives are lost, or maimed and broken
WHY OH WHY.

Driving out should be a pleasure
See the countryside at leisure
Instead you're hassled from behind
Even on roads that twist and wynde
Impatient drivers in a hurry
DO THEY WISH TO DIE,

The highway code states quite clearly
One car width between not NEARLY
The hoppers jump into the space
Braking distance GONE erased
Sudden stop and BANG collision
SHOULD OTHERS DIE?

Special roads should be provided
For crazy drivers speedy minded
Leave the beauty of the county
For lovers of the natural bounty
There is a better time and place
FOR ALL TO DIE.

Ann Miller

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