canty neuk whaur Almond joins the Forth.
Ye daunder doun the brae
views o’ Fife’s green “Kingdom” to the north
Ayont the wee bit bay
Cramond Island rises frae the sand,
“haufway” causey raxin oot frae land.
the tombs the auld Kirk seems to hide
Wi elms abune its heid.
white-washed biggins by the water-side
Are crouned wi’ tiles o’ reid,
Charon, yachtin-capped (his fee saxpenny)
oar ye, no’ to Hades, but Dalmenny.
Kirk, the Inn, the Ferry - a’ historic,
But lang afore their day
spak a lingo here that wasna Doric:
Professor bodies say
ance the Romans had a muckle fort,
diggin for its founds is a’ their sport.
leggy lads and lassies steer their Hornets
Aboot the narrow reach
weans frae Pilton sook their ice-cream cornets
Or picnic on the beach
jos, stravaigin on the esplanade,
view the gasworks through the gatherin shade.
still the sea-birds pipe their oorie cries
Athort the Lothians mud
still the sunset pents the evenin skies
Wi’ palette maist gane wud
aye its colours fade afore the een
gloamin casts its glamerie on the scene.