Yon Haggis

by | May 26, 2009 | Poetry | 0 comments

If you believe in Santa Claus
in fairies or some other cause
then let me tell of this wee beastie
the haggis from the Glen O Feastie.

He is a shy retiring chap
in the sun he’ll lay and nap
he roams the hills of Scotland’s glens
he’s even seen on English fens.

What does he look like you may ask
the Scots are loathed to this unmask
but tales are told round fires at night
which chill the bones and give men fright.

This cute wee beastie told by folk
is not as men gone past have spoke
instead they talk of “haggis horrors”
and me for one this kind of bothers.

Huge it is they said as one
so big it nearly hid the sun
it roars so loud the ground will shake
and the morning after your head will ache.

From walking on the slopes so much
on level ground he needs a crutch
the constant running round the sides
has made each leg a different size.

So to this day on Scottish hills
the beastie walks around the stills
he does get seen now and again
on yonder hill or windy glen.

So when in Scotland on the hills
watch for haggis use your skills
take a flask to help you see
(whiskey filled and not with tea).

It heightens senses so they say
a dram or two throughout the day
it gives you better clearer sight
to see yon haggis taking flight.

So as I draw this to an end
I ask you to this tale defend
the tale of Haggis “Pudding Chief”
now pass it on with great belief.


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