This week's Poetry Bus challenge is to write a poem about sleep, or more correctly the first impressions on waking up. As usual my contribution to the driver's jingling cap is a Limerick.
A somnambulist from Portree
Was fast asleep in a tree
Until an owl pecked his nose
And ripped holes in his clothes
Screeching Out of my house now with thee!
and now as the limerick begs it a translation into Scottish, at my request, from John MacDonald at the zenspeug blog -
a sleeperie stravaiger frae Portree
wis doverin ower in a tree
syne a hoolet dabbit his taes
an wrocht cloots o's claes
skirlin: oot o ma hoose wi ye!
*in John's version nose changed to toes for flowing rhyme
°the Hieronymus Bosch image is from Wikipedia Free Pictures