St Andrews poet Cameron Evans shares some of his reflections on what home means to him with us.



Yon, beyond the elder hills

Of daisy chains and green o’ grass

Where a solitary reaper tills

Or lonely goes the village lass


Aye, beyond the summer plains

Where wholesome sets the sun

Or lights the shadows of the vanes

Upon which it has shone


That’s where the question doth arise

With the hemlock and the berry,

Of whether, when at dawn we rise,

We’re destitute or merry.


For nature calls us with her voice

Like an aisling, aye she’s pretty

And gives to us our twofold choice

Of the village or the city.



18th May – reluctant to name

my words have been clothed in your diadem,

when they will undress i do not know,

nor is it known what they will say,


my thoughts have been draped in your raiment,

of what material i am unsure,

nor do i know whether they are sad or gay,


my mind has been touched by your movement,

at what precise moment i cannot say:

do not try to unravel my thoughts,

for there are a million thoughts my lips would betray.

a sonnet about friendship



To a friend – 12th June


What happens to a weakened house

Whose owners long and long are gone

Where scurries here to there a mouse

In freedom roaming midst no-one?


As time goes on with strongest might

And reigns in fields of green and gold

There stands the house in barren blight

Amongst the hemlock, growing old.


But friendship’s now too strong to break,

No force shall break this house down now,

The years have taught us twain to take,

Our rare encounters anyhow.


Our august love is sure to last

And budding flowers will come to pass.