On Turning her up in her Nest with the Plough

Wee, sleekit, cow’rin’, tim’rous beastie,
O what a panic’s in thy breastie!
Thou need na start awa sae hasty,
Wi’ bickering brattle!
I *** be laith to rin an’ chase thee
Wi’ murd’ring pattle!

I’m truly sorry man’s dominion
Has broken nature’s social union,
An’ justifies that ill opinion
Which makes thee startle
At me, thy poor earth-born companion,
An’ fellow-mortal!

I doubt na, whiles, but thou may thieve;
What then? poor beastie, thou maun live!
A daimen-icker in a thrave
‘S a sma’ request:
I’ll get a blessin’ wi’ the lave,
And never miss’t!

Thy wee bit housie, too, in ruin!
Its silly wa’s the win’s are strewin’:
And naething, now, to big a new ane,
O’ foggage green!
An’ bleak December’s winds ensuin’
Baith snell an’ keen!

Thou saw the fields laid bare and waste
An’ weary winter comin’ fast,
An’ cozie here, beneath the blast,
Thou thought to dwell,
Till, crash! the cruel coulter past
Out thro’ thy cell.

That wee bit heap o’ leaves an’ stibble
Has cost thee mony a weary nibble!
Now thou’s turned out, for a’ thy trouble,
But house or hald,
To thole the winter’s sleety dribble
An’ cranreuch cauld!

But, Mousie, thou art no thy lane
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best laid schemes o’ mice an’ men
Gang aft a-gley,
An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain,
For promised joy.

Still thou art blest, compared wi’ me!
The present only toucheth thee:
But, oh! I backward cast my e’e
On prospects drear!
An’ forward, tho’ I canna see,
I guess an’ fear!

Wee, sleekit, cow'rin, tim'rous beastie,
O, what a panic's in thy breastie!
Thou need na start awa sae hasty,
Wi' bickering brattle!
I *** be laith to rin an' chase thee,
Wi' murd'ring pattle!

I'm truly sorry man's dominion,
Has broken nature's social union,
An' justifies that ill opinion,
Which makes thee startle
At me, thy poor, earth-born companion,
An' fellow-mortal!

I doubt na, whiles, but thou may thieve;
What then? poor beastie, thou maun live!
A daimen icker in a thrave
'S a sma' request;
I'll get a blessin wi' the lave,
An' never miss't!

Thy wee bit housie, too, in ruin!
It's silly wa's the win's are strewin!
An' naething, now, to big a new ane,
O' foggage green!
An' bleak December's winds ensuin,
Baith snell an' keen!

Thou saw the fields laid bare an' waste,
An' weary winter comin fast,
An' cozie here, beneath the blast,
Thou thought to dwell -
Till crash! the cruel coulter past
Out thro' thy cell.

That wee bit heap o' leaves an' stibble,
Has cost thee mony a weary nibble!
Now thou's turn'd out, for a' thy trouble,
But house or hald,
To thole the winter's sleety dribble,
An' cranreuch cauld!

But, Mousie, thou art no thy lane,
In proving foresight may be vain;
The best-laid schemes o' mice an 'men
Gang aft agley,
An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,
For promis'd joy!

Still thou art blest, compar'd wi' me
The present only toucheth thee:
But, Och! I backward cast my e'e.
On prospects drear!
An' forward, tho' I canna see,
I guess an' fear!

or should we say diary, notes

and conditions, terms and

editions. i wish it were so.



i wish it were stored safely,

that we hald each other tight

and out of harm’s way.



they say that patience is a virtue,

yet some times patients die.



shall you write this is the daily

blog, or lie?



sbm.

Silence,
Cold, angry, suffocating,
It's all I get from you now,
When all I try to do is right by you.

Silent glares with silent words,
Silent in your judgmental world,
Blaming me for all your sins,
Expecting me to go along with it.

I'm the hald that feeds,
And all you do it bite, bite, bite,
Leaving me alone in my cold, dark nights,
Stabbing me with your angry gaze,
Expecting miracles when all the while you sing no praise.

You hold on long enough to give me hope,
Then rip out of my hands that metaphorical rope,
Leave me to fall into an endless abyss,
Silence,
Is all that hits.

I really can't stay
Baby, it's cold outside
I've got to go on
Baby, it's cold outside
This  was shure hell
Hoping that you'd drop a message
So, very nice
I'll hold your heart, it's just like ice

My mother will start to worry
Beautiful, what's your hurry?
My father will be pacing the floor
Listen to that heart beat
So, really I'd better worry
Beautiful, please don't hurry
But maybe just a hald a drink more
I'll put some records on while I pour

The neighbors might think
Buts, it's bad out there
Say, what's in this drink?
No cabs to be had out there
I wish I knew how
Your eyes are like starlight now
To break this spell

I'll take your hat, your hair looks like hell

I ought to say, "No, no, no sir"
Mind if I move in closer?
At least I'm gonna say that I tried
What's the sense in hurting my pride?
I really can't stay
Baby, don't hold out
Baby, it's cold outside

Ugh, you're very pushy, you know?
I'd like to think of it as opportunistic

I simply must go
Baby, it's cold outside
The answer is, "No"
But, baby, it's cold outside
The welcome has been
How lucky that you dropped in
So nice and warm
Look out the window at that storm

My sister will be suspicious
Gosh, your lips look delicious
My brother will be there at the door
Waves upon a tropical shore
My maiden aunt's mind is vicious
Gosh, your lips are delicious
But maybe just cigarette more
Never such a blizzard before

I've got to get home
Baby, you'll freeze out there
Say, lend me your comb?
It's up to your knees out there
You've really been grand
I thrill when I touch your hand
But don't you see?
How can you do this thing to me?

There's bound to be talk tomorrow
Think of my life-long sorrow
At least there will be plenty implied
If you got pneumonia and died
I really can't stay
Get over that hold out
Baby, it's cold
Baby, it's cold outside

Okay, fine, just another drink
That took a lot of convincing