Greetings and welcome to Poetry Tuesdays. Don’t worry, I won’t impose my own deformed haikus or mangled iambic pentameter on you. I’m going to hand you over to a guest who’s much more experienced and eloquent than myself.
Her name is Maureen Cullen, she’s a fine poet and an old writing group pal of mine. This week and next, I’ll be featuring Maureen’s poetry on the run up to a reading taking place soon – details below.
One small note: Maureen’s beautiful words are written in Scots dialect and there may be some you’re unfamiliar with. My advice is go with it – it’s gorgeous, lyrical stuff and you’ll get the gist, never fear.
Now, here’s Maureen.
These are two poems from work in progress about my protagonist, Maisie, who is a child in foster care who is subsequently adopted and then, as a young adult becomes interested in her roots. The poems follow her as she grows. 16 other poems from the collection have recently been published as part of Primers, Volume One, a collaboration between The Poetry School and Nine Arches Press, featuring myself and three other poets, Geraldine Clarkson, Katie Griffiths and Lucy Ingrams. We will be reading from the book at The Albion Beatnik Bookstore in Oxford on 11th July . If you are in the area we would love to see you.
The book can be purchased at:http://ninearchespress.com/shop.html#!/Poetry-Books/c/8486213/offset=0&sort=addedTimeDesc
The day ah’ve no tae greet or stomp
or squeal or huff
or pull at Sammy’s tail.
Mammy Annalise says we must be mice,
so we whisper, point, tiptoe an zip-it.
Ah hope firever’s jist a wee short while
cause ah’ll miss ma pals
an Missus Gordon
an even Sammy. Who’ll braid ma plaits,
make ma tum a bowl o cream,
tuck ma mittens in ma pocket?
Who’ll smell like wine gums aw day long,
an sing ma sums fir me tae learn? Whit aboot
ma snuggle place on Mammy’s knee?
Who’ll change ma sheet when it gets soaked?
Who’ll sprinkle talc on ma sore bum?