Glennie, James D.
Fae lang lang sene the grun's bin tirr't
Aa roun bi Bennachie
Sene cam the hardy crafter cheils
Tae see fat they quid dee.
Siccar fowk at tyauved an wrocht
The Geerie lan tae tame
Tho in the ein wi trauchle deen
It gently took them hame.
The crafter bigget up the steens
Dry, een abeen the ither
Tae mak a cosy but an ben
For man an beast th'gither.
He rive't an houk't wi spad an ploo
Tae saften up the clay
He clear't the funs an drain't the bog
Files till the skraich o day.
Seed happer sawn wis harra't in
An roll't wi granitt steen
An antrin ferlies set aboot
Tae flicht the black craws ee'en
He scyth't an bun an stooket's corn
An sortet beast in byre
He cole't the hey an hyouw't the neeps
An cut black pear for fire.
He heuket thrissels in the park
An bigget stracht steen dykes
He poo't the neeps tae feed the nowt
An ither things sic like.
An't aa wis deen wi han an swait
Nae mechanics airt hid he
Lairds acres wrocht the cheil bi day
At nicht his ain twa three.
An aye at han the Muckle Beuk
Grace said tae bless the maet
An Kirkday wi the faimly roun
Fan wark hid aa tae wyte.
Noo crafts are teem an fowk aa geen
The bigget steen dang doon
Tho still an antrin Rowan stan's
Tae mairk an ancient foun.
Based on what I saw as a boy on my grandfather's croft at Pitrichie back in the nineteen thirties.