Crow with shellfish....

... on North Berwick beach.

My friend, Four Little Bells,
said that my poem yesterday was a bit grim,
even worrying.

I'd actually meant to write
a happy love song for the New Year.

Now that I re-read it I notice
that a bit of North West Presbyterianism
plus some North Eastern Bothy Balladism
did creep in towards the end.

Mind you,
in all the songs I remember from my childhood
at least one person dies, or is done in,
somewhere in the song.

I think I'd feel guilty
if I wrote a song where they didn't.

I suppose I'm just kind of old fashioned like that....