On being frightened of the dark. Ghaists an bogles, baukies tae, Flit aboot when the lift is grey, Frichten weans wha fear the nicht An gar them seek an ingle bricht. They steek their heids ablow the sheets When bedtime beckons time tae sleep. Whit lurks in Ilka shadow, dark, Can only be Auld Clootie’s wark. An only speerits micht be seen Wi pairted fingers ower oor een. But Ah wis wee then, lang, lang syne Afore yer haun an hert touched mine …aiblins An when Ah hear a hoolet cry Or eerie creak or ghaistly sigh Ah listen fur anither noise Ah listen hard…….is that your voice? Could you be there, a speerit free? Come back tae sing yer sang tae me? Your ghaist wad be a welcome sicht. Ah fearna dark…… PIT OOT THE LICHT!
|