May 062011

By Bob Smith.


Nivver myn The Duncin in Kyle
Lit me tak ye back a fyle
Fin on duncin I wis richt keen
In the halls o’ Garlogie,Echt an’ Skene  

Ye  birled ti bands like Bert Duff
Fin loons like me wid strut their stuff
Some at duncin war fair fleet
Ither eens  they hid twa left feet

There wis ither bands like Mary Milne
Fa hid ye waltzin wi great will
Ye war up duncin an eichtsome reel
Hoochin an skirlin like a feel

Maist couldna afford a motor car
Bit they cam fae near an far
Buses, bikes an usin their feet
At wikkends they war nivver beat

Ye’d ask a quine up for a dance
Roon an roon the hall ye’d prance
Quicksteps, waltzes an foxtrots
Sometimes yer feet war tied in knots


Great times ye hid tull near midnicht
Some loons wid be an affa sicht
Een or twa hid ower muckle booze
The chunce o’ a date they wid lose

Duncin wis the time for ti chat

Ither quines fa maybe cam fae Clatt
Or deems fa bade up in Midmar
Fower o’ them cam doon by car 

Noo an again a fecht wid occur
Like fin some feel wid cast a slur
On the virtue o’ a local quine
Oor dander wis then up ti ninety nine

We were aa Jock Tamson’s bairns
Ti the duncin for tae learn
Foo ti dee an eichtsome birl
An aa the lassies wid hooch an skirl.



©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2011