Brae

by Hannah Nicholson

Hit’s fairly grown an’ cheenged ower da years

But den so am I, so ir we aa’. 

Whin I wis peerie, da neebirs wir fine, 

Da skule wis full, an’ so were wir days. 

Da play park wis right on da doorstep,

An’ if we got bored yundir, 

Da public toilet wis a good hideoot. 

 

Da voe at hit borders wis ay busy

Wi’ sailin’ boats, windsurfers, fireball dinghies, 

An’ speedboats. You ay kent

Da fokk you met whan you were

Oot fir a waak, an’ you were spoilt fir choice

Fir oot o’ school activities. 

 

Eence a year, in da midst o’ Mairch, 

We watch as a galley is pulled

Alang da main rodd through da place

By a squad o’ Vikings, followed by

Scores o’ fokk in costumes,

Kerryin’ torches an’ singin’ awa’ 

Afore dey arrive at Busta Voe

An’ baal da torches intae it, 

Laevin’ it tae burn apo da watter. Last o’ da season. 

 

In da years fae I guid awa’, hit’s mushroomed. 

Mair hooses an’ a chip shop ir appeared,

Among idder things. Hit’s no’ da sam place

As I grew up in, but cheenge haes tae come

At wan time or anidder. 

Me hame toon’s cheenged, but so did I.