The Artist

When little is within her frame But flatness, blankness, placid scape, No livid hue surrounds her name, So she, the sculptress, must give shape To hate and drama, crashing wide From slashing brushstrokes, mocking trust Of people; pawns she will … Continue reading

Monaghan’s Corner

     It was a quiet winter afternoon in Monaghan’s Corner. It had been quiet most of the day in fact, however it was not by any means empty. The only pub this side of Glasgow to offer authentic Irish … Continue reading

The Lassie Tae Her Disca Winch (A warnin’ sprung fae remembrances eh the poet).

Sometimes when a lass heads oot She likes tae pit hersel’ aboot An’ git aff wae a big braw boay; Tall, dark and strong. However lassies, listen weel Tae ma wee song. Fur aften when yir staunin’ there, Wae his … Continue reading