An All Purpose Scots Referendum Result Poem
The day is over, night is done,
Dundonian lids are swollen red;
At dawn, a whisky-coloured sun
Lifts up and shakes its hoary head;
Thank goodness that the ship of state
Sails on alone/ together (strike
A word out). Now let’s celebrate,
And tell the past it’s on its bike.
The dead heat in the Glasgow air;
The hang of cliff; the tartan moon;
The finished photo, cropped with care;
The neck (and neck) and stone of Scone –
These memories, for good or ill,
Are captured under loch and quay:
Now Yes (or No, delete at will)
Has had its way, and all are free.
So near, so far; some loved it, shunned it;
Some split a difference, sold their souls;
Have pity for the weary pundit
Totting up the useless polls –
As day is day and night is night,
There’ll be no bunting not unstrung,
They’ll not be Jilted At First Sight,
But let the bells (or knells) be rung.
Click here for an Independent article
Click here to buy Bill’s poetry collection Ringers
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