Snippets Frae the Heather

By Agnes M. Murray

I was born in 1934 at Grains in Crawford, Scotland. My Dad, William McKay, was a shepherd and I later became a shepherd’s wife, when I married Tom Murray. I have enjoyed writing poetry for many years, mainly for my own pleasure. Most of my poetry is about my family, friends and my life growing up.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Jan 27, 2023
• ISBN: 9798823080170

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2023 Agnes M. Murray. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 01/27/2023

ISBN: 979-8-8230-8016-3 (sc)

ISBN: 979-8-8230-8017-0 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

Acknowledgement

Debs

An Island

Marshall

Winter Holidays in Perth

Georgina

Campshead: Lambing-Time 1975

May Ritchie

A Shepherds Wife

Me Being Me

A Name

I’m an Orchid

The Carron Valley Rally

Group C

An East Calder Dug

Miller’s Xmas Pies

Dewar at Grains

The Spider

Childhood Times

The College Boy

The Mcdonald Family

The Late Willie Gilchrist

Elaine at Xmas 2021

To Marshall Allan

An Eiled Ewe

The Murray/Mcdougal Feud

A Postage Stamp

Third Time Lucky

Fat Boab

On Moving to Stirling

The Moss Cottages

Jeanette & Tony

Morrar

Adie

John

Princess Whatsmaname

Knowepark Caravans

A Lost Love

Remember

Friends

If’s and Why’s

To George Harris

A Letter to Aaron

Number 157

Hill Shepherds

Newtongrange 1983

A Christmas Present

Sandra

Mothers Day Card

The Station Hotel Maud

Dad’s Life At Grains

The Table

Alan

Louise

Holiday ’85

To Mary and Jock

Elaine

Robin Redbreast

Mr Nelson (Crawford Minister)

Wee Snowman

Sgean Dudh

Dear Santa

Nursing in Carlisle

Hope You are Well

Janice’s Driving Test

It’s My Glen

To Neil Mackenzie

A Letter to Ron

Robin

Christine

The Big Chop

Lachlan and Elaine

Return to Maud

Darja

Ra-Mona

Lakeland Holiday

Twinning Time at Campshead

Fiona and Matt

Jackie

Fiona

Life

A Red Poppy

Liam’s Saloon

Lakeside

Liam and Lachlan (At Newtongrange)

Newtongrange Racing

My Reflection

Line Dancing at Mid-Calder

Tough Times

Youth

The Question

The Caravan

The New False Teeth

Our Coffee Table

The New Mechanic

The New Year Meeting

The Old School Bell

The Ring

The Ruby Wedding

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

Elaine Boxall has been advisor, typist and general helper throughout most of this procedure, without her this book would never have happened!

Debs

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We thought we’d take a holiday

and to Wemyss bay we did go,

To a caravan at Parkdean

where the sea lay right below.

We were talked up through the huge park

by Debs as she cooked dinner,

For her verbal instructions

in my book she’s a winner.

Her caravan is super

with extras for each guest,

I’ve never been so happy

this I do not say in jest.

I’m sure that we’ll return there

when the weather is much kinder,

So a booking for a future date

will not need a reminder.

An Island

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You can be a flower so fragrant and fair

in the midst of life’s garden of people,

You can be an be a church, so steadfast and strong

with its heavenly point the steeple.

You can be a lion, so strong and so brave

and in the jungle of life, be a king,

Or you can be a mouse, so timid and small

who is scared of everything.

You can be a bird and fly high and free

with its wings through the air vibrating,

Or you can be a swan, so graceful and white

with the waves around it gyrating.

You can be a lake, so deep and dark

where your thoughts are yours alone,

Or you can be a reed so slender and fine,

that grows in the lakeside park,

You can be all these, but there’s one thing for sure

no-one can be an island.

Marshall

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He did fencing all round the country

on farms both large and small,

But in every type of contract

one’s apt to suffer a downfall.

On this one special occasion

to the castle he did adjurn,

To collect his cheque in payment

for work that he had done.

He suspecting that he ‘d have to enter

the hall of this stately place,

He brushed down his clothes, knocked the dirt from his boots

then wiped the grime from his face.

He approached the front door, rang the door bell

and by the gent was told to enter,

The most ostentatious hall he had seen

and there he stood in the centre.

Mid the persian rugs, and