ANDREW Tannahill combines pathos and social criticism with a final flourish of individuality in this sample from A Tapsalteerie Touer, published in 2007 to mark the establishment of the fund, bearing his name, for the furtherance of Scottish literature at Glasgow University.

The poem serves as a reminder that entries for the McCash Scots Poetry Competition are still welcome.

HAIVERS

Our auld men's club's kenspeckle in the park,

An army hut the kindly cooncil gied,

Whaur we whase darg our betters nae mair need

May bide frae daw till the yetts close at dark.

The welfare folk, feart lest we girn or cark,

Gie's dominoes, ludo, cairts - een buiks to read -

To wile awa the hours till we be deid,

Dae-guiders, nocht but wastery a' your wark.

An auld man's howff's a tapsalteerie touer:

Time backlins gaes, my warld turns withershins,

Glaur's in the lift, sterns skeenkle in the stour:

I'm near the naethingness whaur a' begins:

The wine cask's cowpit, wersh the hindmaist lees,

Yet in my daith a hale vast cosmos dees.