Doric Sweet Talk

Doric Sweet Talk

DORIC SWEET TALK

We got awa fae't aa
In a cafe in Cullen
For a hale Sunday aifterneen.

Ye said if yer boat cam in,
If yer bonds cam up,
Or ye won the Doric Competeetion,
Ye wid tak's ti Paris,
Or Venice,
Or Zurich wi its g-nomes.

Bit aach, chyaach,
It wis a weet Sunday,
So we sattilt for a high tea
At a fantoosh hotel in Cullen.

On the wye ti Cullen
There wis an ine o season sale
At a gairden centre,
An Aa winted ti gyang in
For anither purple tree.
Bit ye said ye wisna
For anither o yon damnt things
Powk powkin in yer lug
Aa the wye hame in the Fiesta.

Aa wis rael quaert aifter that.
Ye speered fit wis wrang.
Aa said Aa wis sulkin.
Ye said Aa wisna sulkin,
Aa never sulkit,
Aa jist sometimes took a turn
O righteous indignation
An retreat't intil dignified silence
For a meenitie or twa.

An syne ye said
They gie ye sic affa big helpins
At fantoosh hotels.
Aa hid sic a saugh wan figure,
It wid be a peety
If Aa turned intil
A caaf bed tied roon the middle
A' ower the heids o celebrating
Ye winnin the Doric Competeetion.

The cafe in Cullen
Looket affa warm an welcomin
In the dark grey rain washed toonie.
The attractions o fantoosh hotels waned
That endangered the saugh wan figure.
"We'll gyang in there," Aa said.

We sat there
At a corner table
Wi scones an jam an a bonnie tay pottie
Amang ither fowk
That hidna gane ti Paris,
Or Venice,
Or Zurich wi its g-nomes.

We got awa fae't aa
For the hale aifterneen
In the Cafe in Cullen,
An we waatched fowk
Oot in the weet parkin area
Plouterin tae the public loos,
An comin oot o the ice cream shoppie
Wi umbrellas abeen their cones an sliders.
They hidna even gotten the length
O the Cullen Cafe.

Aa'm nae that ill faar't,
Aa suppose Aa cud get a lad
It wid tak mi ti
Rose reid cities
Half is aal is time.
An he micht lat mi buy
A hale grove o purple trees
At mid season prices,
An lat me tak them hame
In the Merc
Or the Silver Ghost
Fim his boat cam in,
Or his bonds cam up.

Bit a yes man like that
Wid niver win
The Doric Competeetion.
An wid he hae
The perspicacity tae see
It Aa never sulkit,
Aa jist sometimes took a turnie
O righteous indignation?

© P J Goodall

	DORIC SWEET TALK We got awa fae't aa In a cafe in Cullen For a hale Sunday aifterneen. Ye said if yer boat cam in, If yer bonds cam up, Or ye won the Doric Competeetion, Ye wid tak's ti Paris, Or Venice, Or Zurich wi its g-nomes. Bit aach, chyaach, It wis a weet Sunday, So we sattilt for a high tea At a fantoosh hotel in Cullen. On the wye ti Cullen There wis an ine o season sale At a gairden centre, An Aa winted ti gyang in For anither purple tree. Bit ye said ye wisna For anither o yon damnt things Powk powkin in yer lug Aa the wye hame in the Fiesta. Aa wis rael quaert aifter that. Ye speered fit wis wrang. Aa said Aa wis sulkin. Ye said Aa wisna sulkin, Aa never sulkit, Aa jist sometimes took a turn O righteous indignation An retreat't intil dignified silence For a meenitie or twa. An syne ye said They gie ye sic affa big helpins At fantoosh hotels. Aa hid sic a saugh wan figure, It wid be a peety If Aa turned intil A caaf bed tied roon the middle A' ower the heids o celebrating Ye winnin the Doric Competeetion. The cafe in Cullen Looket affa warm an welcomin In the dark grey rain washed toonie. The attractions o fantoosh hotels waned That endangered the saugh wan figure. "We'll gyang in there," Aa said. We sat there At a corner table Wi scones an jam an a bonnie tay pottie Amang ither fowk That hidna gane ti Paris, Or Venice, Or Zurich wi its g-nomes. We got awa fae't aa For the hale aifterneen In the Cafe in Cullen, An we waatched fowk Oot in the weet parkin area Plouterin tae the public loos, An comin oot o the ice cream shoppie Wi umbrellas abeen their cones an sliders. They hidna even gotten the length O the Cullen Cafe. Aa'm nae that ill faar't, Aa suppose Aa cud get a lad It wid tak mi ti Rose reid cities Half is aal is time. An he micht lat mi buy A hale grove o purple trees At mid season prices, An lat me tak them hame In the Merc Or the Silver Ghost Fim his boat cam in, Or his bonds cam up. Bit a yes man like that Wid niver win The Doric Competeetion. An wid he hae The perspicacity tae see It Aa never sulkit, Aa jist sometimes took a turnie O righteous indignation?
	© P J Goodall