By Bob Smith.
Maybe wi flechs on University goon
Some micht say the “louse” is the wearer
Nae his claes fit are the bearer
New York city it is bug infested
At Dyce Airport Trump should be tested
Ti see if he is the cairrier o
Thae beesties fit loup ti an fro’
The thocht o flechs gyaan fae fowk ti fowk
Is aneuch ti mak some hae a cowk
Fit fin Trump is gettin’ his degree
A louse it lans on a wifie’s knee?
Her skirls wid be heard up in Turra
As she leaves the hall in a hurra
Itchin’ ti scratch the bit fit’s yockie
Fowk’ll think she’s deein’ the hokey cokey
The flech o coorse is haein’ gran’ fun
As aa the fowk are on the run
Trump’s fans they micht hae a grouse
The rest o us toast “Ti A Louse”
Here’s ti you wee loupin’ beestie
Awa ye go an hae a feastie
On Donald’s bleed hae a gweed sook
Maybe on his erse ye’ll raise a plook
©Bob Smith “The Poetry Mannie “ 2010
See also Former Principal Returns Award