Mercyside Saga Part One

across the River Mercy
we sailed our ship of fools
all the way from Jerkinbed
to the port of Liddypool
on the foam we joked anew
and old songs sung we high
to people in the tea room
who watched the wheels go by
then fell the sun as Fairclough ran
red as shepherds pie
as we landed by the king
up on his horse so high
across a bridge and down the steps
to fountains full of air
that rhymed of evenings yet to come
when I saw her standing there

Highland Games (a Mc’Memory)

In sconnie Botland once I roamed
with torpedoes on my back
and sank a little fishing boot
and a shepherd’s shearing shack
I stayed inside a rocking horse
by the name of Tingle Creek
and drank his bridle all but dry
before I’d stayed a week
I took the low road home again
as the high one was too long
and Mulling on a punctured tyre
I began this silly song.