A POEM ABOUT BOGHEAD
It’s the finest place in Scotland
So it has been said
The village I am referring to
Is, of course, BOGHEAD
It lies out in the country,
Peaceful, calm and still,
It’s seven miles from Stra’ven
And one from Kirkmuirhill
Its houses, most of them white washed
Are built of solid stone.
And not so many years ago,
It got a public phone.
It has some well-known landmarks
Around its countryside
So just sit back and listen
And I shall be your guide.
We’ll walk up to the public park
From there we’ll start our tour,
We’ll go round about the quarry,
Then up to Lawriesmoor.
We’ll walk down through the golf course,
To Bob Pate’s we’ll make our way,
Then along by Clayton’s cottage,
And up the sawmill brae.
From there we’ll make for Blackwoodyett
Where Jimmy Barr was born,
And then we’ll make for Tammy Young’s
And cut through Fulton’s corn
We could have gone by Woodland farm
Owned by Andrew Gold
Or down to Andrew Mitchell’s
To buy the peas he sold.
Sometimes to Johnnie Fairie’s,
Or to old Guy’s we’d go out,
Oft times at Miss Smith’s burn
We’d staun and guddle trout.
Of course, we couldn’t always play,
We had to go to school;
Big Duncan was the master’s name
The teacher – wee Jeannie Rule
We’ve mentioned all the landmarks,
We’ve viewed the countryside,
So now a word about the folk
Who, in this place, abide.
There used to be the Muirheads
Who lived in Number Two;
They had so many animals,
Their place was like a zoo.
Then there were the neighbours,
The folk who live next door,
The man works with the S.M.T,
His name is Davy Orr.
Across the road lives Andrew Brown,
Sometimes I stop and wunner,
How it ever came about
He was called ‘The Gunner’
Then there’s Mary Sandilands,
The village shop she runs,
She sells ‘Cremola, cheese and bread
And Muir’s auld tea buns’.
A few doors up lives George Malone,
Of course there’s Andrew too,
He used to drive a wee green van
Nicknamed the ‘Wee Do-Do’.
Then there’s Mrs. Blank,
Whose story I must tell,
Her house is always dirty,
And oh dear, what a smell.
Ruby’s blue-eyed boys
Were called Wee Andrew and Big Billy,
They lived a few yards down the road
From Mrs Jack and Willie.
Then we come to Jessie Brown,
Jack Harkness is her man,
They live around the corner
From Jessie’s sister, Nan.
We can’t forget to mention,
Dick and Mrs. Bell,
They live down at the smiddy
And Jimmy Ross as well.
Two old men I can’t miss out,
They never had much luck,
One is old Dan Douglas,
The other Bob the Buck.
Not forgetting Willie Fleming
Who tramped the road each day,
He slept in Willie Semple’s mill
His bed was made of hay.
If your name has not been mentioned,
Don’t be in any doubt,
The reason why it isn’t here
Is because it’s been left out.
You’ve travelled quite a bit today
You’ve met some decent folk,
No doubt you’ll join with me to say
‘Lang may your Auld Lum Reek’.
Permission to print the poem was given by the author, Douglas Muirhead, who left Boghead as a youth and after a short period in Canada, returned to Scotland. Douglas was educated at Bent school and Lesmahagow Higher Grade school. The poem was written around 1958 and records his memories of life in Boghead in the years 1945 to 1950.