Scotland Says No, Dreich and greenYgrey United

On a suitably dreich and old-fashioned greenygrey day in the U.K. the news this morning reported that the Scottish people had voted to remain a part of the United Kingdom. The greenygrey accepts that its older relative the dreich is still a part of U.K. language. It also thanks the Scottish people for a good democratic debate, and hopefully their discussions will inspire a fairer U.K. for all people in the U.K.’s fringe poorer areas in the north and west of Scotland, England, Wales and Northern Ireland.

Scotland in Context, Yes to U.K., No Way to Norway 

Hi, it’s William Wolfsworth, the real poetry correspondent at the greenYgrey inspired by legendary Romantic poet William Wordsworth, after a little blooper in yesterday’s intro! As an of course lover of natural scenery like my Romantic inspiration, I’m glad Scotland stayed in the U.K. because I think the Highlands and lochs provide the best dramatic

Loch Awe (Scottish Gaelic, Loch Obha), created...

Loch Awe (Scottish Gaelic, Loch Obha), created by Cailleach nan Cruachan (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

scenery in the U.K. I’ve seen…

…but not as dramatic as Norway’s steep-sided fjords (had to throw in that greenYgreyism, as don’t want Scotland to get carried away, or think I’m being too loveydovey… hey that’s another greenYgreyesque phrase… you usually don’t have to travel too far along the writing road to find some greenYgrey relevance these days, as we’ve become so universal… but the dreich still rules in Scotland!)

New Folding Mirror Poem

Funnily enough (not in a humorous way!), Marc Latham’s latest Folding Mirror poem is weather-orientated, inspired by a more old-fashioned greenygrey August than expected, and a so far more rebranded greenYgrey September twisting the months and seasons around to a convenient alliteration. Here’s the poem I just imported from

rocks eagle

Weather is Changeable, Earth more Predictable

August can appear autumn
September like summer
clouds and rain
may disperse
inspiring seasons reverse
idea falling from unconscious
that the months and seasons
might twist around slightly
this year
but only after Bertha
blew in from America

making me think, of sporting decisions

so I warmed up
preparing to write poetry
recalling football
played on sloping pitches
with a gale blowing uphill
if winning the toss
you’d play up
first half
because the wind
changes its direction
while ground remains same


The images framing the poem are from Brimham Rocks, just above Summerbridge in the Yorkshire Dales, which along with its Lake District neighbour (the land knows no borders) is the prettiest landscape I know in the U.K.

Smashwords cover


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