James Douglas Stevenson



I belang to glesga!

Dear is My Young Glesga toon!

Nuthin- the matter wi glesga

it`s just fool of oor wullies n broons

they awe raise a glass, whit ever their class!

and turn blue, the pubs orange and green.

We awe battle on singing oor own songs!

awe ribbons are uaually worn by awe new.

Lovin oor Scotland is soon forgotten!

Heading South at the invitation of You.



To love & trust

could be enough

to set this heart on fire

but someone else will hinder

in reducing these flames to cinders.

Rise above and stand beyond

all others who would contrive

great are our feelings realised

as we share our dreams alive.



      Calling out for sunshine

      the clouds are to blame

      crying out for a summer

      my tears don`t dry in rain.


      April May come what may

      this worse we fear, is just,

      then in July, we british fry,

      when britain, begin to fuss.


      It`s very hot, so pass wet cloth

      then place it on my forehead,

      bring the ice to cool it down,

      and return into the cow-shed.


      I`ll tan away, the rest of today

      as milk-maid tends my chores,

      for I`m the pig of pigeon park,

      who does not squeal but roars.


      sweating trotters porkish smell

      four long hours, being roasted,

      knives & forks will carve me up

      officially, I`ve just been ghosted.



      James Douglas Stevenson 2005


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