Snippets Frae the Heather
119 pages
English

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119 pages
English

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Description

I was born in 1934 at Grains in Crawford, Scotland. My Dad, William McKay, was a shepherd and I later became a shepherd’s wife, when I married Tom Murray. I have enjoyed writing poetry for many years, mainly for my own pleasure. Most of my poetry is about my family, friends and my life growing up.

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Publié par
Date de parution 27 janvier 2023
Nombre de lectures 0
EAN13 9798823080170
Langue English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0250€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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Snippets Frae the Heather
 
 
 
Agnes M. Murray
 
 
 

 
AuthorHouse™ UK
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403 USA
www.authorhouse.co.uk
Phone: UK TFN: 0800 0148641 (Toll Free inside the UK)
UK Local: (02) 0369 56322 (+44 20 3695 6322 from outside the UK)
 
 
 
 
© 2023 Agnes M. Murray. All rights reserved.
 
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.
 
Published by AuthorHouse 01/27/2023
 
ISBN: 979-8-8230-8016-3 (sc)
ISBN: 979-8-8230-8017-0 (e)
 
 
 
 
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.
 
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
CONTENTS
Acknowledgement
Debs
An Island
Marshall
Winter Holidays in Perth
Georgina
Campshead: Lambing-Time 1975
May Ritchie
A Shepherds Wife
Me Being Me
A Name
I’m an Orchid
The Carron Valley Rally
Group C
An East Calder Dug
Miller’s Xmas Pies
Dewar at Grains
The Spider
Childhood Times
The College Boy
The Mcdonald Family
The Late Willie Gilchrist
Elaine at Xmas 2021
To Marshall Allan
An Eiled Ewe
The Murray/Mcdougal Feud
A Postage Stamp
Third Time Lucky
Fat Boab
On Moving to Stirling
The Moss Cottages
Jeanette & Tony
Morrar
Adie
John
Princess Whatsmaname
Knowepark Caravans
A Lost Love
Remember
Friends
If’s and Why’s
To George Harris
A Letter to Aaron
Number 157
Hill Shepherds
Newtongrange 1983
A Christmas Present
Sandra
Mothers Day Card
The Station Hotel Maud
Dad’s Life At Grains
The Table
Alan
Louise
Holiday ’85
To Mary and Jock
Elaine
Robin Redbreast
Mr Nelson (Crawford Minister)
Wee Snowman
Sgean Dudh
Dear Santa
Nursing in Carlisle
Hope You are Well
Janice’s Driving Test
It’s My Glen
To Neil Mackenzie
A Letter to Ron
Robin
Christine
The Big Chop
Lachlan and Elaine
Return to Maud
Darja
Ra-Mona
Lakeland Holiday
Twinning Time at Campshead
Fiona and Matt
Jackie
Fiona
Life
A Red Poppy
Liam’s Saloon
Lakeside
Liam and Lachlan (At Newtongrange)
Newtongrange Racing
My Reflection
Line Dancing at Mid-Calder
Tough Times
Youth
The Question
The Caravan
The New False Teeth
Our Coffee Table
The New Mechanic
The New Year Meeting
The Old School Bell
The Ring
The Ruby Wedding
ACKNOWLEDGEMENT
Elaine Boxall has been advisor, typist and general helper throughout most of this procedure, without her this book would never have happened!
Debs

We thought we’d take a holiday
and to Wemyss bay we did go,
To a caravan at Parkdean
where the sea lay right below.
We were talked up through the huge park
by Debs as she cooked dinner,
For her verbal instructions
in my book she’s a winner.
Her caravan is super
with extras for each guest,
I’ve never been so happy
this I do not say in jest.
I’m sure that we’ll return there
when the weather is much kinder,
So a booking for a future date
will not need a “reminder.”
An Island

You can be a flower so fragrant and fair
in the midst of life’s garden of people,
You can be an be a church, so steadfast and strong
with its heavenly point the steeple.
You can be a lion, so strong and so brave
and in the jungle of life, be a king,
Or you can be a mouse, so timid and small
who is scared of everything.
You can be a bird and fly high and free
with its wings through the air vibrating,
Or you can be a swan, so graceful and white
with the waves around it gyrating.
You can be a lake, so deep and dark
where your thoughts are yours alone,
Or you can be a reed so slender and fine,
that grows in the lakeside park,
You can be all these, but there’s one thing for sure
no-one can be an island.
Marshall

He did fencing all round the country
on farms both large and small,
But in every type of contract
one’s apt to suffer a downfall.
On this one special occasion
to the castle he did adjurn,
To collect his cheque in payment
for work that he had done.
He suspecting that he ‘d have to enter
the hall of this stately place,
He brushed down his clothes, knocked the dirt from his boots
then wiped the grime from his face.
He approached the front door, rang the door bell
and by the gent was told to enter,
The most ostentatious hall he had seen
and there he stood in the centre.
Mid the persian rugs, and antiques
oil paintings that hung around,
Then a sudden thought came to his mind
that brought his feet back to the ground.
 
He remembered his up-bringing
as he stood there on the mat,
In front of a lord, e’en a fencer
is supposed to doff his hat.
Well, this was the lad’s undoing
as sure as God made the flower,
For as soon as the hat came off his head
the sawdust came out in a shower.
So let this be a lesson to all in haste
when summoned to one in power,
Dust out your hat when you’re cleaning up
things like this can make life turn sour.
Winter Holidays in Perth

The time has come for holidays
for Marshall and our Jess,
So north to Perth they travelled
in their new Volvo car, no less.
To visit Nette and Peter
Yvonne and Danny too,
And the tales they told on their return
I now will tell to you.
Nette’s house seemed like a palace
with its sheepskin rugs on show,
The crystal and the silverware
reflecting from the glow.
On a fire in a teak surround
and in a tasteful display,
A host of gifts from Peter
from countries far away.
The bathroom seemed exquisite
off-white carpet, and towels, minky,
But what about the mirrors?
Marshall reckons they are kinky.
Imagine sitting on the throne
and to yourself just speaking,
And through the mirrors on the wall
half of your kinsfolk peeking.
 
These kindly folk made welcome
this couple from Rigside,
And took them to the Bein Inn
quite near where they reside.
They all dressed up real smartish
Jessie clad in a new suit,
New blouse and all accessories
matching from head to foot.
So ladylike on a stool she perched
gin and tonic in her hand,
When a drunk gave her a right good push
and on the carpet she did land.
In situations like this
one usually feels a fool,
But there she sat, gin glass held high
then clambered back onto her stool.
They wined and dined so graciously
the Steak-Balmoral, oh so good,
But they let slip they got extra strength
from eating “pop-eye” food.
We heard a great lot of the stories
told by the Allan batch,
My head it is still reeling
Got a match? Got a match? Got a match.
Georgina

I’m going to my work again
I’m in my element,
I enjoy the daily grind of it
it’s like it’s heaven sent.
We scrub, we clean, we polish
but at times we need a hand,
If things are just too heavy
on our helpers this task lands.
I shout more then, I need it here
I might as well speak to the wall,
You’re a stupid useless creature
I said “today” if I recall.
By this time I was fuming
my dander was well up,
One of these days if this goes on
I think I will erupt.
Campshead: Lambing-Time 1975

Oh sheep I hate the sight of you
and the dirty tricks you play,
When you have lambed a deid ane
why the hell will you not stay.
At least within the region
of where I’ll likely look,
And not have me go looking
in every bloody nook.
And don’t think you have won the day
and run with head held high,
Your numbers up, of that I’m sure
when I get you in-bye.
I’ll thump your nose, when I’ve tied you up
and I’ll make you wish like hell,
That you had lambed like the rest
and did not need the stell.
You’ll get a lamb that’s big and strong
and is going to keep you busy,
Then I’ll sit back and have a laugh
you dirty, rotten hizzie.
May Ritchie

A retirement party, Dear Oh Dear
can it be really true,
That all these years have passed away
since at Grains I first met you.
The good times that we had, May
are too numerous to count,
And all the up’s and down’s in life
we’ve managed to surmount.
I’d not meant to say remember
any incident, specific,
But two things that I must mention
were really quite terrific.
When you first saw my Dad’s boots
fully sprung, quite strange to you,
You asked if his feet were the same
well, what else could you do?
Another day springs to my mind
concerning our poor cat,
Who soon became a sailor, but
I maybe should not mention that.
I could go on reminiscing
o’er these times that we have spent,
Originally I just meant to say
“Have a happy retirement”.
A Shepherds Wife

Of herding I have learned I know not a ruddy thing
I ne

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