Jul 252014
 

By Bob Smith.flagsaltiremeniehaar

We hid a wee drive oot
The wye o Ellon toon
The sun wis fair shinin
An fowk war turnin broon
.
Efter an ice cream an waak aroon
We got back in ower the car
A fyow mile oot o Ellon
We war met bi bliddy haar
.
The nearer we got ti Menie
The haar it fair got worse
Wi grey mist ower Trumpie’s coorse
A’m sure a heard a curse
The “greatest golf coorse in the warld”
Far ye cwidna bliddy see
Ye widna hae kent fit line ti tak
Fin drivin aff ony tee
.
A’m a bittie sorry fer the feels
Fa pyed tap money fae afar
An on the coorse they cwidna play
Cos o north east’s famous haar
.
Haar!Haar!Haar! I hear fowk laach
Wi nae sympathy fer The Donald
Fowk shud drive a fyow miles north
An play Ellon’s haar free McDonald

©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie” 2014
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  One Response to “Haar! Haar! Haar!”

  1. A golfer of my acquaintance predicted all this years ago, Bob, as being of particular significance re televised contests & championships – complete but unpredictable white-oot. That and the perishing cold, a real problem for elderly Americans accustomed to playing their golf in Florida.

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