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POEMS BY ANNIE JANE WATSON
THE EDEN ESTUARY
At the turn of the tide, as the river meets the sea
The estuary is unveiled
An empty canvas awaits the painter’s palette
Oyster catchers in local dialect cleekum sparrows
The splendid black and white legs encased in orange stockings
Feed on choice morsels, cockles, mussels, limpets, shrimps and crabs
Curlews, in Scotland called whaups, with their curved beaks
Scour the shoreline for their share of tasty treats
Lugworms leave their telltale casts in the sand
Starfish with tentacles outspread like a baby’s hand
In the sea water close to the shore rafts of eider
St Cuthbert’s chickens, bob up and down in the rippling waves
And croon softly one to another
Relentlessly the incoming tide covers the shore
And the painter’s sandscape is erased once more
THE AULD MEN’S HUT
Oh weel ah mind o the auld men’s hut
On a cauld wintry day when the door wis shut
We liftit oor pipes an smokit oor fags
Wi nae wives tae blatter us wi their nag nag nags
We’d hae a read o the paper and get aa the news
Syne we’d talk aboot them an gie our ain views
At the back o twelve we’d gang hame for wir meat
A helpin o mince an tatties wis hard tae beat
The poet and her husband are resident in one of the care homes. I was captivated by her writing and by her own delivery of her work in the Doric. Annie writes about many things and she was happy to contribute to the project. We are delighted.
Christine Kydd