I like bits of these. Have edited them slightly since writing but they still need shuffled around and bashed into shape.
How to gift you 'green'
How to gift you 'green'
and all that it means:
the sharp blades that pierce through the frost-dried grass, bulging with life;
the fragile, pale-printed marks on snowdrop heads shivering in the wind;
that first fuzz of spring at the ends of branches, tender leaves unfurling almost as you watch.
Mither Tongue/Bairns' Sang
I came to it late,
this mither tongue o mine.
Never hearing it fall from lips around me
but in hasty snatches, odd words
and bairns' sang.
It feels right in my mouth though,
the words sounding just the way they should,
but it's something I slip into
like a second-hand coat found at the charity shop, not made for me nor I for it,
apart from the odd words here and there,
and bairns' sang.
