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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!
Rosie Dee Jan 2015
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!
Again, not my poem, an excellent one by Robert Burns. Okay i was just gonna put up 'Address to a haggis', it being 'Burns' Day', but this is personally one of my favourite poems of his, and this is the one i heard mostly over the course of my life. I love it a lot, and i think it's an excellently written poem, with excellent language, and an excellent story (if you cant tell already, i think it is excellent haha). So enjoy this one. Happy Burns' Day (even if you don't celebrate it).
Always in my hearing
Each time I ran out of my track
My conscience shouts!
You have been warned Olajide
It shouted so many times
Remember,says mother's voice


So soon to have forgotten
Mother seated at the edge
Of her wooden bed
At the corner of her bed saying
''Olajide my son
You are my hope


My season
My morning, noon and evening time
The seed
I have been watering
My vineyard you are''
My conscience remember me


All parent are sowers
All they need is a return
A bountiful one
My son, my son
Are you counting my calls
And you said yes


You are my seed
Be viable
You were implored
Don't be spoilt
And know the son of whom you are


My whole go with you
As whole of snell shell
Goes all ways with it
Mother prayed
As you stepped out
To the future


As the spinner are never,
Tired of spinning their cotton
The weaver works on their
And fire blazes always in the,
Blacksmith hut
Mother's voice, remember
My conscience says.
Safana Aug 2020
Ring the Bell
Ring it, well
Ring the Bell
can see, a skell
from dry well
They sight it well
A wealthy kvell
spell it and yell,
*
Ring the Bell
And paupers
           yawningly mispell
Bcause,
           They can see not well
They said:
           Blood well instead farewell

Ring the Bell
Everyone is unwell
The tears is upwell
No tasty, they smell
All sadness are swell
And hungry is quell

Ring the Bell
Again,
          Difficulties swell
          No one to dwell
          For a bit on snell
          Uphill is upswell

Ring the bell
And,
Ring it well!
Be alert and alert everyone to help those needy ones everywhere in this world.
wordvango Jul 2015
Snell's law in life a medium
of a mind prism, as sure as ,
the wavelenths have varying temperatures:
Wide open aperature of high
the slitted view of depressions,
purpish absorbing the green, yellow
echoes, yellow absorbing the hot red rays.
If only I saw what was absorbed, the waves that came I ignored.
Blue with depressions, colder than all the feel of ultraviolets.
Or intense as the white paper absorbing the infrared rays.
I pass , like a prism, the negative refractive indexes.
The bending light of love.
Snell's law tells me light comes from two.
But I see many more. Many who love, many who live. Life is so beautiful, the highs and lows that churn and mold a beautiful soul. The pureness of you all, your beauty and grace. I love you all. Every man and woman, boy and girl. You are all special. You have God in you, you have God with you.
My loved ones guide me to the top of my dreams. They deserve so much. More than I can give them. So I ask for the one above to do what he can.
natasha ali Feb 2020
They told me to think well
But to me that well is hell

Trying to think about what did they tell
But again i failed and fell

Being my self, its strange smell
Finding my self in life cell

My life cell is Snell
I Wanna have farewell

Wanna have farewell! farewell!
Wanna break life cell! life cell!

— The End —