by Robert Hume

Ca' oot yer skelfs o lassies wi dwaibly shins

Luved by they blatts that only bring them hairm;

Mairch next they tailored queans wi tan-straikit skins

Oot o ma sight - or, best, aff tae somewheres warm.

Gie me instead some fell stoot, sonsie gem -

Nane o yer skraichs, or smouts, peely-wally belles,

But hansellt wi flesh, an biggit like a hame,

Nae just the flash o some one-night hotel.

Claes that cascade ower bumps an curves an rolls,

Nae creeshy lard or cheesy cellulite,

But haunles, buttresses agin the winter's cauld,

Promisin fozie warmth in the bed at night,

Pink, fu o hert, an wholesome, roundit, complete;

Antithesis o faimisht, drouth or need.

Haunches, hips an breists nae just fu - replete,

Streitchmerks that sign the livin frae the deid!

Such wimmin mak a man seize the wealth in store;

Such wimmin keep thoughts o daith well ootside the door.

© Robert Hume

Robert Hume lives in Carluke and teaches in Biggar. He is a member of Clyde Valley Writers and he may be contacted by email to Rhumewriteraolcom