By Bob Smith.
In oor wee villages an toons
Nae for the local fowk ti bide
Bit fer incomer quines an loons
Ye see mair an mair developments
In Westhill they’ve fair gin mad
In placies like bonnie Cove Bay
It’s jist ivvery bit as bad
Fair saturated wi bricks an mortar
An cars aa aroon are fleein
It maks ye stop an wunner
At iss madness we are seein
We’re telt we need these hoosies
For fowk fa wint ti move up here
Nae word o aa the impact it’ll hae
We’ll be in sic an affa steer
We’re aa affected by iss disease
It’s name is hoosin sprawl malaise
It slowly creeps aa ower oor land
An we wait for it’s next phase
It canna be cured by a doctor
It can only be stopped by us
Fin ye hear o a hoosin application
Jist kick up a bliddy fuss
©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2010