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  Features - Humour
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ON RECEIVING “ THE BROONS BURNS NIGHT”

Jack Jackson

My thanks to you, frae ower the watter,
For sending on that wee bit Jotter;
It must hae taen an awfy labour,
For Horace tae compile that paper.

I mind when I had ane the same,
Ah’d taen mysel’ frae schull tae hame,
I filled it up wi mony a scribble,
An’ aye ma neb let doon a dribble.

My teacher skelpt me ower the lug,
For blamin’ thae splotches on ma dug.
Albeit, sometimes a star I got,
For hamewark done without a blot.

But, tae that book o’ Broons ‘gaen- on’,
Its crammed wi sayin’s an’whatna’ fun.
An’ michty me! there’s Pipes an’ all,
Tae bring the Haggis frae the hall.

Nae doubt Joe played Strathspeys an’ Reels
Tae warm the hearts o‘ all the Chiels,
E’en thae English guests were rairin’,
Tae fill their kites wi’ halesome fairin’.

Oor Rabbie’s breast wi’ joy wid fill,
Tae think that he’s remembered still.
An’ not just wi’ the Broons foreby,
Och , it brings a tear tae my auld eye.


So here’s tae the Broons , an’ you my friens,
For sendin’ ower nostalgic scenes,
I forward look tae Januars mair,
Tae celebrate, devoid o’ care.

Remembering this, is never hard,
“The Immortal Memory of our dear Bard”,
I hope these rhymes are no infraction,
They’re just mere thoughts frae

Jack Jackson
 

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