Sep 102010

Natures Fecht For Union Terrace Gairdens – A Poem By Bob Smith

The craws war chattin ti the doos
Hiv ye heard the affa news
They’re destroyin oor gairdens at Union Terrace

Thae humans are a bliddy menace

The doos said are ye sure yer richt
We ken you craws are nae that bricht

Oh aye we heard it fae a wise aul owl

Fa wis doon the Toon’s Hoose for a prowl

Noo Jenny Wren wis hoppin aroond
Fin she heard the doos kickin up a soond

She flew up high ti see fit’s fit

Fit she heard she didna like ae bit

Oh michty me an gweedness gracious
Fillin in oor gairdens fit are richt precious

The trees and shrubbies far a hop aboot

Wull aa be for the chap nae doot

The tale wis telt ti the snails
They lit oot some affa wails

Iss surely it jist canna be

Destroy the gairdens an we’ll aa dee

Syne the news it reached the bugs
They hid heard it fae the slugs

The Toon’s Hoose wull be oor destination

There ti hae a wee bit infestation

We’ll crawl aa ower the Provost’s chair
An get in yon John Stewart’s hair

The mannie’ll hae ti hae a scratch

Serves him richt the silly vratch

The moles they noo heard the chatter
An said we’ll hae a wee bit natter

We can undermine St Nicholas Hoose

So’s the foondations are a bittie loose

Noo the robins war maist pit oot
As roon an roon they did scoot

Iss is news jist affa silly

As they passed it on ti a blue tit billie

The Blue Tits they warna overjoyed
In fact they were fair annoyed

We’ll hae ti flit ti Westburn Park

An that’ll nae be much o a lark

Syne a butterfly it flitted bye
On hearin aa the spik did cry

Fit aboot the bonnie flooers

Far a spent sic happy oors

The squirrels they cam oot o hidin
Fae holes in trees far they wis bidin

They canna chap doon oor hame

Fa thocht up iss silly game

The bees noo they war bummin
Wi frustration they wis hummin

We’ll hiv ti sting aa the bums

O Sir Ian Widd an his chums

The flooers, shrubs an the trees
War duncin wi anger in the breeze

Iss his been oor hame for yonks

Aa ti be trashed by stupid gonks

The aul aul trees hid some inspiration
We’re covered by an order o preservation

Jist aabody bide in oor leafy green tops

Agin the diggers we’ll pull oot aa the stops

Leave us aa aleen is nature’s plea
Nae hairm ti humanity did we ivver dee

Ye humans are jist bliddy feel

As oor gairdens ye try ti steal

Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2010