Gerbil?
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Gerbil?
Go for it G3o. I often dabble in a bit of poetry - Not me, love it though.
"The moving finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on: nor all the piety nor wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a line
Nor all the tears wash out a word of it."
The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam (1859)
Dosen't need to rhyme.
When I lived in a Highland village, a self- appointed clique formed a group, supposedly to represent the local parish. The unelected committee decided to hold a Robbie Burns night to celebrate the formation of the group. The local councillor and other so called dignitaries were invited, but no ordinary residents from our village.
Robbie Burns is my favourite poet so in true Robbie speak:
Robbie’s venture at the Milltown Supper
Welcome everyone and all
We’re gathered tonight to hae us a ball
I’m nae standin’ to gi’e ye a lecture
Sae down a wee dram O’ the golden nectar
This is HQ, the clan gath’rin place
Indulge the great chieftain O’ the pudding race
Mae hae a joyful night, we’re all Spartan
Sae don yer tammies, straight’n yer tartan
The Torbolton lasses are here to play
Jiggy wi jive the Highland fling way
Bessy on sqeeze box, Peggie on doodlesac pipe
Sae ceilidh awa to The Robbie Burns hype
And ye the bard ye great poet man
Ye canna stay yer nae frae our clan
Ye ken community spirit yer all a yearning
But this here clique is nae frae turnin
Needless to say the guests who attended weren’t best pleased but most of the villagers loved it.
Really enjoyed the dark ones.
And Ged, you just made me laugh myself on to the floor!