by Bruce Clark Dick
(Forfar Angus Scotland)

“Dunderheid, dinae kick open that door
Ye’ve skelt a the schuil books,
A ower the floor.”

“Nou pick them up neatly, an nae mair o that,
Go an stand in the corner,
An aye, pit on thon tall pointy hat.
Staund richt up in the corner
Well oot o yer pals reach,
I’ve students, an scholars
Crying oot fir me to teach.”

“Ye’ve stuid ther fir an oor
So come on in, an sit doun.
Not at the back o the classroom
At the front, ye wee buffoon”

“So that yer in ma vision
An I can keep ma eye on you,
While we’re daein logarithms
You’ll do the two times two”.

Thirty years hae passed, since I last see’d that lad
For a dunderheid, he hasnae done bad.
His best pal Wullie’s, a blacksmith ,
An bonnie Jeanies’s she’s a braw wee seamster,
Wha thocht that the dunderheid, wid go and mak Prime Meenster.

Bruce Clark Dick.

Comments for Dunderheid.

Average Rating starstarstarstarstar

Click here to add your own comments

Apr 15, 2010
by: Tuks

Exactly the Scottish I remember from my Grandpa. Any more?

Aug 06, 2008
I LOVE it!
by: May

This poem just tickled me. I love the both the language and the humour. Thanks for sharing it and making me smile.

Click here to add your own comments

Join in and write your own page! It's easy to do. How? Simply click here to return to Poetry Invitation.