Dec 202012

By Bob Smith.

It’s bin alleged a cooncillor wifie
At a meeting hid a wee doze
Fin voting on a nicht club licence
The cooncil war in the throes

Did the craitur hae forty winks?
Did she hear the pros an cons?
Fit wye wis she alood tae vote, 
Fin they hid a show o hauns?

She claims she’d teen medication
Iss made her a wee bit fuzzy
A’m sure there’s ither cooncillors
Faa’s brains are afen muzzy

They tak decisions aboot oor toon
Iss maks ye fair hae a think
Foo mony micht feel drowsy
Cos they’ve hid a denner time drink?

Nithing wrang wi haen an aperitif
As lang’s ye dinna bicum a bam
Jist mak sure fin ye hae a tipple
Glenfiddich is yer faavrit dram

“Glenfiddich!!” A hear The Donald roar
“A plague on aa sic drinkers
Fusky fae Wm Grant’s distilleries
Is only fit fer bliddy minkers”

A’m nae suggestin the puir wumman
Wis jist a bittie warse fer weer
The story aboot her maybe dozin
Hisna made things affa clear

©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2012

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