Ode to a Nephew

my nephew and best friend rolled into one

A pair ae rollerskates,

Blue an' pink,

Giggling toddlers,

Zooming in sync.

Be careful, you twa,

Back and furth across,

widden slats,

to mak oan applause.

Naw, we're no allowed doon there,

You niver listen,

A pair ae rollerskates,

And a hert beat that quickens.

It's manky,

an' dangerous doon there,

an' am feart o' the end o' the gairden,

Ignore me fur the bloo in the air.

The streenge widden log,

You crawl, an' crawl, an' crawl,

Unner an' through, an' back again,

A pause. You leuk so smaw.

Pink rollerskates shakkin',

Sky turns grey,

A scream, a shout,

'Ere you've ruint the day.

A nail in the heed,

A scream, a shout,

Pain. Pain. Pain,

Come oan, get out.

Blood oan clathes. Blood oan wid,

A telt you no tae go doon there,

Blood all over,

Look, you've had a scare.

Screaming. Is that mines or yours?

Tears oan your chin,

A telt you sae,

Blood oan skin.

A golf course doon in England,

A faimily holiday we dinnae like,

Golf clubs that shine,

An' a sun that feels bright.

A wee fairm on wan side,

An' a stream up ahead,

Let the bairns cross, naw,

We want tae daw it lit yous, we said.

Him first, he's gid,

Then me, am better,

It's you noo, you're shite,

Christ, wits the maiter.

A strop, lit always,

And laughing that has you bealin,

You stomp away,

Feck, where's he heedin?

We follow,

But the laughter disnae gie ower,

Until, you throw your golf club,

In the next field over.

Ken you've just hit a goat,

Noo you're being a dobber,

And even though it's no oor fault,

Some wans gonnae huv tae go ower.

There's nae fairmer,

And you're awfy jammy,

Cos we're aw laughing,

An' you're greeting tae your mammy.

A burn up in the Highlands,

And a caravan ower the watter,

There's anither log,

Withoot nails, nae matter.

The faimily watch oan,

As we tak it wan at a time,

Am first, like always,

Your the last tae climb.

Ah mak it withoot falling,

An' am happy tae be hale,

You jist get haufwey,

Afore you stert tae look pale.

You wibble and you wabble,

Your arms jeegle and weegle,

Am sorry tae say,

You leukt lit a dying seagull.

There's sae much laughing,

Following the splash,

Noo ma brithers keelt ower,

Cos you're the wan tae crash.

An' am no being funny,

But even you've goat tae say,

Ah hink God's goat it oot fur you,

Cos it never goes your way.

Noo, you'd hink that wis that,

Cos there cannae be any mair,

But a'v goat wan mair story,

That a'd like tae share.

This wan taks place abroad,

Whaur the sun shines,

Wi actual heat,

An' we spent aw day oan the shore lines.

Am sitting by the pool,

Wi a book in ma lap,

An' the rest of yous are swimming,

Until it aw turns to crap.

A look up from ma book,

An' all a can see,

Is your arms flapping aboot,

And the pool churning like the sea.

You're drowning,

But you're no,

You're overreacting, actually,

An' your pulling ma mum down wi' you.

Watter everywhere,

Getting in your eens, your lugs,

An' am laughing, like always,

Cos your jumping aboot like a wee bedbug.

You're ma nephew, 

For that matter,

An' mair times than a can coont, you've

Made us laugh by fawin in watter.

A dinnae ken whaur I'd be,

If it wisnae fur you,

Making a fool of yerself

But a'd maist likely be there too.

Reviews

[ale]

i really like the accent you put in the writing. it gives the poem more depth :]

[Vee]

thank you :)