For those of you who fear the approach of Burns nicht and the mass - TopicsExpress



          

For those of you who fear the approach of Burns nicht and the mass murder of Scotlands most precious wild animal, the Haggis, as I do, can I encourage you to turn your back on Burns Ode to a Haggis that welcomes the slaughter and to read one of my more sensitive and educational poems on the matter? This was my second Haggis poem. (I wrote 4.) Save the Haggis (by Bob Campbell) The handsome haggis on the hill That merge w’heather, when she’s still And flee’s s’fast y’canna kill, She’s wa’ too clever To let the hunter get close ever. She’s grazing on the heather tops, Movin’ wi’ graceful, striding hops, And when she’s threatened, first she drops, An’ listens hard. Trained eye’s can’t see her past this guard. While she has no scent a dog can smell, Her second guard’s to run like hell. So quick is she, through hill and dell, She’s seldom seen. And yet, somehow, you know she’s been. In such terrain, how’s she so fast Across a setting, quite so vast? Her left legs longer than the last She’s balanced well, For travelling clockwise round the hill In days of old, she was captured in, Special pits or snares and lured wi’ gin, Not like these days, wi’ loads o’ din, And so unjust, It will catch them all I trust. A line o’ guns around the hill, To face the fleein’ prey they’ll kill, An efficient, noisy, murder mill, They drive them back, To run the wrong way round the map. And wi’ long leg on shorter side, They stumble, tumble, slip and slide, ‘till they reach the flats wi’ nowhere t’hide. To run in circles, Until their clubbed like shell-less turtles The poor wee haggis, has nae chance, Their bodies limp, fill sacks and vans, To feed the mouths of foreign Clans. Her rare distinction, Is close to reaching world extinction. While capitalists say, ‘there’s no such thing’, A cover for their wicked sin, Content wi’ pennies rollin’ in. But soon, wi’ haggis gone We’ll a’ look back someday an’ shun So don’t tak’ in their wicked lies, Ignore their scornful, mocking jibes, Campaign hard to save haggis lives An’ we must win, She’s the most elegant creature there’s e’er been.
Posted on: Sat, 24 Jan 2015 01:07:31 +0000

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