Address To A Woodlousey. Poem by Scott Forster

Yer a wee humble hing
wha moves wi oot clatter or ding
But ae yer praises
ah'll sing
wee woodlousey.

Ah'm sorry ma wee freend
thit ah washed ye awa
and wis sae careless tae hae deemed
ye no weilcome in ma company.

Yer wee bittie shawn awareness
an easy kin be seen in ye
Darwin's process.
Aye, yer jist trauchlan alang like me.

Confusion an urgency pushes us forrid
tae try tae make guid o oor blessin's
and tak the best oot fae whits horrid.

Ah Jyne in the circle o' life,
Tis sympathy whit pulls us thegither
and we're ae destined tae be divided, when oor herts caldrife.

In that auld phrase
'We're aw Jock tamsons bairns'
biggit fae the same stuff, sin the earliest days.

We shidnae be hateful, fu e spite
insteid we should honour oor unity
and try tae dae whits right.