Ode to the Bard

Another Burns night poem written to be performed at an evening of homage to Robbie, and involving enormous amounts of haggis, of course.

Ode to the Bard

I wish I lived in Scotland
Next door to Robbie Burns
I’d roll my rrs and say the nooo
And we’d take it in turns
To write and read our verses
To people passing by
And everyone would love them
They’d dance and shout “ouch aye!”
(That’s when I’d say “the noo”
But like a poet would.
With drama and with scansion
That makes us poets good).
Robbie would write of roses
Red, red ones, lice and mice,
His tale of Tam o’ shanter
It Isn’t very nice.
He’ll write them sort of Scottishy
With ‘Na’ and ‘wad’ and ‘doon’
He’ll talk of bonnie lassies
While all the women swoon
Myself I’ll write some ditties
To complement his verse
I’ll write about his sporran
(It could be a lot worse)
I’ll celebrate his haggis
The way it gets piped in
And all the recitations
With whiskey (not with gin).
I’d be best friends with Robbie
But not as Scottishy
I’d masticate his haggis
While he recites to me
I’d mash his earthy tattees
I’d pulverise his neeps
We’d create perfect rhythm
While everybody sleeps
Oh Robbie how my heart burns
To be in Alloway
To hear you singing Auld Lang Syne
When it is Hogmanay
I wish I lived in Scotland
With Robbie Burns the bard
I’d roll my r’s in rustic woods
My reputation tarred.
I’ll blow into your bagpipes
Hear your distinctive drone
From reservoirs of air within
I’ll hear your half crazed moan
So fit you are, bonnie Robbie
So deep in love am I
And I will love you still, Robbie
Till all the seas run dry.

The end.

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