Mackie, Dr. Lewis

The mornin's dark an doon in the moo
Wi a saft sooth win jist meevin.
There's nae a soun bit the auld Scar's Coo
Tae tell ye that onything's livin.

The grey, grey blanket creeps fae the sooth
Tae cover my little yawl
They caa it here a drappin drooth
Bit it's mair like a funeral pall.

In warkin the inshore lines we fear
This slinkin, silent beast
As it folds its sleekit airms aroon
The biggest an the least.

Och I can fecht the howlin win
Or the wild seas broken wi faem
Bit the drappin drooth that limmer o sin
Keeps me fae gettin hame.

Sae pick up you win an blast this beast
That cuts ma senses tae fower
Gie me a chance tae use ma een
An open the lanward door.

As the win gets up an the curtain lifts
Wi the flood A've drifted far
A lang, lang pull tae ma ain wee bield
Northlin twa oors or waur.

''Far hae ye been?'' ma freens will say
''That yer sailin hame fae the Sooth?''
''Aye fegs, there's naething else A could dae
A wis trapped in a drappin drooth.''