Tae Burns o’ Alloway

Och, thank heav’n for Rabbie Burns
Thae Burns o’ Alloway, tha’ bard!
For somehow somethin’ in thae air
A’roond his humble place o’ birth
Tha’ gold’n lan’terns o’laburn’um
Fain stirr’d me heid a turn, a turn
One day in spring a’ time ago
Sae pretti’ly’ kiss’d it seem’d was I…
Et spun me quite a’roond inside
(Och, apologies, tae ye, dear Rabbie
Ye ken I’ll n’ev’r pen half fine as thee
But surely I mawn speak me mind)…
An’ tell ye how I tho’t I saw thee
Lean’in braw on th’ cottage door
Ae wee bairn play’in at yer feet
Made ow ye pen’d bloom anew for me
Sich wairds o’ reid reid roses en June!
Bloom’d bricht en auld Alba’s streets
Tha’ sunny, glorious Alloway day
Steep’d in clover’d gardens o’ May
Did I naught find ye standin’ ow hale?
I’m certain I did, an that’s me tale!

© 2012 S. Michaels
Alba Songs

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