The simmer sea’s a keekin glaiss
The lift, saft as a cooshie doo
Teets in o’t, wi an ee o oo
Drappin feathers, pink, an grey, an pearl
The sun skytes doon a sunbeam ower the swirl
O buttercup-bobbin waves
Chasin their blae begetters
Inno sandy graves.

Shoals o seagulls skreich;
Roch-wirdit fishwives,
They stalk the satty bree
On reid-raw shanks, fat matrons, ooto pech
Hopin a prize tae pree.

“John lues Stacy”
Screived alang the sand
Laists till the tide
Owersweels the wattery strand

The sea sooks staves like bylins intae smush
Till they’d fit ben the ee o a needle
A skittery hurlygush
O teenie-weenie grains
Reeshlin along the sea’s unfaddomed veins
The waves are shelties,
Ruled bi the meen’s reins.