Note-It's Burns Weekend in Scotland and this is my tribute to our great bard.I will be reciting this at a Burns Supper tonight.I hope you like it.
Our Scottish Prince, rustic rogue of rhyme.
Sainted, painted and pillored through time.
Yer cottage it stands, a tribute its true.
How the braw bonnie lassies o Ayrshire loved you.
A common man, wi a romantic notion.
Yer pen was filled wi frivilious potion.
A man o' men, wrote o' love and spite.
Blushin' girls cheeks an' satirical bite.
Scots tounge and dialect, that was straight fae the heart.
Ye wrote "A Man's A Man For A' That."
Yer poems appealling tae the worldly masses.
Yer ghost still lingers in drinkin' mens glasses.
Rabbie, the toast o' the town and the haggis addressed.
Wi' a wee dram o' whisky, we're now fully refreshed.
Yer words were like snow on a loch, stream or river.
Just a moment o' white but not lost forever.
Was a Priince, died a pauper at only thirty seven.
Yer poems are read at supper-time in heaven.
So "fair ye weel and now we'll severe."
But yer memory will stay wi' us forever.