Finola Scott’s work can be found on posters, tapestries and postcards. She is widely published with poems in Ink, Sweat and Tears, The Fenland Reed, Lighthouse, New Writing Scotland. She won the Uist Poetry, Dundee Law, The Blue Nib Chapbook competitions and was runner up in the Coast to Coast pamphlet competition. Stanza Festival commissioned a poem for a multi-media installation. Red Squirrel published her debut pamphlet in October. You can read more on FB Finola Scott Poems.
We sit book ended on the sofa cooried close my daughter and I Feel Mum, swollen she turns towards me, her belly a ripening pod. Inside my child, cells divide and divide. Curled crouched, coiled my child fuses and swell. I cradle her cocoon and feel in my daughter, her daughter dance beneath my hands practising for later. I cup once familiar flesh hold another's foot curve, heart. Practise. In 'Much left unsaid' pamphlet published by Red Squirrel Press
Wake up call
you haul me from dream drifting snug in your tousled bed I hear your early-rise kitchen clatter I'm a lay-a-bed, day-waster, sloth you remark dark dressed in the doorway I want our mornings to release day's perfume not this peat, earth-soiled Pu'erh tea you proffer aged, brackish, it slaps my mouth you say I'm drinking time I taste rot Published by Ink, Sweat & Tears
Wild Swimming, Eaglesham
Out through the village, don't stop at the coaching inn for beer to quench this blue-sky heat. Your slaking will be different. Like you, the Romans marched this way. longing for southern shores and the cool relief of baths. Above Ballagioch Hill buzzards swirl, wings stirs air. The moor is a sieve here, pierced by lochs and dams. Need long gone for that chain of Falls to power mills, the clatter of shuttles in dust filled rooms forgotten. Like the fishermen and trout, you shall have your pick of water. Today the clear shallows of the High Dam tempt. You're ready - costume tight-gripping your skin beneath starched cotton, towel & apple in the bag, feet in Start Rites. No seaweed, rock pools or eye-nipping brine. Only the glint of fresh water all-day sun warmed, damselflies darting, and the memory of Covenanters who dared to pray under this heaven. Slip off your dress, press through the shining water lilies Published in Well Dam by Beautifil Dragons Collaborations