Burns Supper

Robert Burns

She fell in love upon first sight

Although indeed he knew this not

Her heart and soul he did excite

And at this supper and upon this night

Where honoured guest he did recite

The fine words of Rabbie Burns,

She hoped perchance she would catch his eye

And he entranced, her love would return.

He draws and cleans the knife

“His knife see rustic Labour dicht”

Plunges into haggis and cuts

“An' cut you up wi' ready slich”

She loves him so and distracted

By her deep emotion toys with the notion

That her love might not be unrequited,

For at the Toast To The Lasses

The men stand tall and raise their glasses

And he looks at her with recognition

As if he shares her intuition

That love is meant to be and he smiles,

And she now even more beguiled

Becomes a wee tim'rous beastie

Afraid he knows the thoughts within in her.

And much to her chagrin she blushes

Least he know that she is wanting.

Blood rushes from head to heart

And as she worships from afar

She begins to down the uisge beatha…

Ceremonies over, he walks to her table

His heart loved up for his mon amour,

And if he were able he would engage her,

But the silly Sassenach

Has downed too much whisky

And is on her back upon the floor.

He leaves her, this handsome brute,

His heart already broken,

His tears splash down and drown her with sorrow

And she racked with guilt

Was left with one blissful memory

For from the floor she could see up his kilt.

I was surprised to see that there was virtually nothing in blogland re Burns night as I tucked into my curried haggis and clapshot – yum yum!  I cannot claim Scottish ancestry but do love haggis and the Bard.

A history of the Bard can be found here, details of a Burns Supper here and listen to a recitation of “To A Mouse”  here.

Enjoy!

Anna :o]

With thanks to the good folk at  dVerse~Poets Pub Open Night.