Aug 092013
By Bob Smith.
| Cry ma beloved Scotland Greet at wir foolish wyes Ye tak aboard wir excuses An listen ti aa wir lies . Ye hiv an embracin beauty An we listen tae yer wails Yet we sacrifice yer landscapes Tae satisfy business holy grails . In yer mountain an yer moorland There is a majesty unsurpassed Yet winfairms an great motorwyes Are creepin ower ye fast |
In yer hills an glens we marvel At nature’s fecht ti survive Ower muckle fowk on yer pathways Ower hillside tracks they can drive . Cry again my beloved Scotland Greet eence mair at wir foolish wyes Ye try tae mend the destruction As ye let oot some mournfu cries . There’s fowk as wid help ye An stop the folly aat’s aroon We need aa ti be richt brave As some wid ding us doon |
©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2013
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I concur with the Wind farms Bob, hideous things that scar the Countryside and soon to be our great coastline, uneconomical as well.