Sandy Fleming

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Omens

Reid roses bleezin on the bush ootby
     An you wi yer shears.
Ae close swelterin fortnicht
     Afore thon wind an plowterin rain.

Leuk at the thorn athoot the reid roses
     The day efter the storm.
Petals haudin tae the weet yirth,
     Their perfume snowkin in the caller mornin.

Dichtin oot the parritch bowle at the sink
     Ae day afore hairst,
Wi antrin sich I keeks ootower
     At fresh reids knappin abuin the thorn.

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