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Start by following William Soutar.
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“I bleed myself to be your drink:
Is not the blood of poets—ink?”
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Is not the blood of poets—ink?”
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“Surely our language is the image of our soul”
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“A diary is an assassin’s cloak which we wear when we stab a comrade in the back with a pen.”
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“Wee Wullie Waggletail, what is a' your stishie?
Tak a doup o' water and courie on a stane:
Ilka tree stands dozent, an' the wind without a hishie
Fitters in atween the fleurs and shogs them, ane be ane.
What whigmaleerie gars ye jow and jink amanf the duckies,
Wi' a rowsan simmer sin beekin on your croun;
Wheeple, wheeple, wheeplin like a wee burn owre the chuckies,
An wagglin here, an wagglin there, an wagglin up an' doun.”
― Seeds in the Wind: Poems in Scots for Children
Tak a doup o' water and courie on a stane:
Ilka tree stands dozent, an' the wind without a hishie
Fitters in atween the fleurs and shogs them, ane be ane.
What whigmaleerie gars ye jow and jink amanf the duckies,
Wi' a rowsan simmer sin beekin on your croun;
Wheeple, wheeple, wheeplin like a wee burn owre the chuckies,
An wagglin here, an wagglin there, an wagglin up an' doun.”
― Seeds in the Wind: Poems in Scots for Children
