Flooer tae Flooer

by Donald Adamson

Nae man’s an island?’ Mebbe
but mair A’d say we’re jined,
man, wumman, ilka yin o us,
like in yon gowan cheen A seen
croonin the heid o a lass
on the strand o a loch lang syne
on Sanct Johan’s Day.

A bonny sicht it wis, wi licht 
skinklin on the waves
and aye when midsimmer comes
A hae mind o her,
the face o her, her heid
and the flooers turnin upwaird
tae the sun.