Can you hear me knocking?
Open yon front door
I've whisky for yer table
Aye, and coal to fuel yer fire!
We've seen enough o' last year
I've kicked him out anon
For all the ill the old year brought
You'll want another one.
Greet me on your fiddle
And make yer bagpipes skirl
Peck me smartly on the cheek
Then step out gie a twirl.
Ye canna change the old year
Yon's bin and done and gone
But I am new and I'm all yours
To make of as you can.
YOU ARE READING
My Poets Pub Bits
PoetryI was fortunate enough to discover Poet's Pub very early in my Wattpad experience and have found it a hugely supportive community. This is a collection of poems I submitted for various Poets Pub competitions and collections. They are published in bo...
