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Hoots o’ th’ Rising Mon

HUGH MORRIS

Saturday, February 26th, 2005

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 ‘Twas th’ Third Round o’ th’ Cup,
Bein’ played on Saturday,
‘Tween Lochglen Thistle an’ Haggistoun,
Who had been drawn away..
Dougal D. McFrugal,
Aged almost 85,
Took a bus t’ Lochglen’s ground,
‘Cause it was much tae far t’ drive…

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 Th’ wee bus was completely full,
Folk sat on ev’ry seat,
All headin’ for th’ cup-tie match,
T’ watch th’ teams compete..
Then a lovely lassie got on board
An’ Dougal noticed wi’ a frown,
Not a solit’ry man would stand up
T’ let th’ lass sit down…

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 So Dougal said, “Excuse m’ Miss,
Bein’ a frail an’ aged chap,
I canna offer y’ m’ seat,
But y’ can sit upon m’ lap..”
“Thank y’ Sir,” th’ lass replied,
Wi’ a smile so sweet,
“Tis good t’ meet a gentleman
An’ take th’ weight from off m’ feet…”

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 Th’ windin’ road down t’ Lochglen
Was strewn wi’ stones an’ bumps,
Corrugations, deep potholes,
Boulders, rocks an’ humps..
As th’ bus bumped on its way,
Th’ lassie bounced on Dougal’s thighs,
‘Til after ’bout five miles or so,
He exclaimed wi’ great surprise…

5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 “Hoots Mon Bonnie Lassie!
Y’ll find me chivalrous as a rule,
Believin’ Manners Maketh Man,
Bein’ from th’ older school..
But I must break wi’ tradition,
So would y’ please stand up because..
Tho’ I told y’ I was frail an’ old,
I’m not as old as I thought I was!!!”

© Llew Beaton 26 February 2005

Notes

Editor’s note :
Lest anyone take umbrage at Hugh’s wicked sense of humour –
please first check out his poem : ‘On The Agender’

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/hoots-o-th-rising-mon/