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Poems from Francis Kerr Young
Soonds oan a Christmas Morn

Click here to listen to this poem read by Peter D Wright of the Scots Independent

Wee bairns kecklin’ late at nicht,
cries o’, "Git tae sleep!"
Wee bairns wishin’, een shut ticht,
bit naebidy’s coontin’ sheep.
Squeezed-oot whispers wauken dawn
wi’ oo's an’ ah's an’ aw's!
Thochts o’ sleep hiv lang syne gone;
"Look at them! An’ those!"
Tuggin’ grand bows, rustlin’ paper,
Skirls o’ sheer delicht.
Openin’ boaxes, weans a-caper,
Oh, for Silent Nicht!
Clanks an’ whirrs wi’ bangs an’ bumps;
Faint chimin’ frae a bell;
Crunches, thuds an’ clangs an’ thumps;
an’ noise that soonds like . . . Well!
Music is near, playin’ guid cheer,
Echoin’ Christ his been born;
Soonds that we hear, soonds we haud dear,
Soonds oan a Christmas morn.

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