Walking through a wooded forestum
Why though birdy look so glum?
Walking to a beat of a ryver sound,
Well I hoip peace and love you have found
When the weather is wet
Where will ye be pet
Why maybe you’ll burrow doon where it’s broon
Whence you came, hing of a tree ye foond
Well ye cud float like a bee the noo
Way up here is high
It’s darker sooner than nicht
Far away from the picts
And surely it’s always sic
A lovely watery lick
When the due is on the lie
Don’t believe the squirrel
He loves to dance and twirl
He comes out at night
And listend to the girls
Hedgehog knows the woodland smell
He sniffs and snorts and likes a smell
Why wouldn’t he want to kiss and tell
When acorns are in the sky, they will fell
SO there is a heart in this poor ground
My rhythym and art feels it pound
But here we can hide from empowered man
And that’s why we love this place
That’s why they call it Blarbuie Woodland.
Daniel Dey Nee
Nee Deep Poetry Blog 