Feb 142014
By Bob Smith.
Trump’s nae deein the Hielan Fling He’s noo tryin River Dance Intae his Menie Developmint Anither dollar he’ll nae advance . He’s gyaan ti the Emerald Isle Doon the wye o Coonty Clare A feel sorry fer the Irish fowk His arrogance they’ll hae ti bear . His mither bein’ Scottish born The chiel wis aywis blawin Wull we noo hear fae him His faither wis a leprechaun . Scotland wull be the losers The bugger dis rant an roar Donald jist gie’t a rest Yer mair than jist a bore |
Bi throwin the toys oot the pram He’s shown his petulant streak Aa because he lost his case In front o a Scottish “beak” . At Menie wull he pack it in An leave here wi gweed grace? Somehoo a dinna think so Cos the mannie wid lose face . Donald o the Menie Estate Fa’s stock his teen a dip Noo he micht be kent as Donald o the petted lip. . . . . ©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2014 |
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Nice one Bob.
very fitting goodbye and good riddance poem Bob 🙂