A wee burns night poem for politicos:
On Sunday raise a gless tae the Bard
Why no? You huv bin workin’ awfy hard
And as ye git tore in tae yer neeps
Ye’r thinkin’: May- hoo mony sleeps?
And who’s gonnae be on yon TV debates?
A parcel o’ rogues, or some ither ingrates?
It’s plein Labour’s no held in much affection
Leadin’ up tae this general election
Will we see MPs dae inither northern dash
Saltires in haun? – Dinna fash!
Cause patriot Jim’s got the upper haun
Oor health will be paid for by Londaun
Instead of MPs getting’ oan that train
It’ll be nurses comin’ tae ease the pain
And dinna caw the PM a sleekit loon
We’ve extra poo’ers – tis written doon!
Nic says naw
It’s her baw
And onywey the Bill will faw
Fir English votes for English law
It disnae go Farage enuech
‘Whit aboot us? Fars the proof?
Meanwhile the nats, draped in tartan
This weekend will be fartin’
They’ll stuff too much puddin’ in their sonsie faces
An’ forget aboot political graces
Hunners o’ members is awfy weel
Bit they’ll no be able to keep them in heel
It gies ithers gey muckle pain
Tae see the nationalists claim Rab as their ain
The bard a nat? dinna be silly
It’s plein tae see he’s a’body’s Wille
So this weekend dinna go starvie
At least we still have Patrick Harvie…
Tom Freeman 