Since it was Burns’ Night on Saturday we thought we would bring you a poem from a more contemporary bard
‘Twas dreich, and came the slithy tove
Tae greet and brag throughoot the wabe
Al’ snooty were the Cybernats
And the hame wrath ootgrabe.
“Beware the Jabberjock, ma son!
The gob which shites, the lies that catch!
Beware the Harpy bird – aye, her
The Shrieking Krankiesnatch!”
He tak’ his Union sword in hond
Lang time the fetid foe he sought –
So rested he by rowan tree
And stood awhile i’ thought.
And as in huffish mood he stood
The Jabberjock, wi’ een insane
Cam’ waddlin’ through the tulgey wood
And blethered wi’ nae shame!
Ain, Twa! Ain, twa! the sword o’ truth
With vorpal blade went snither-snack.
He left it deed, and wi’ the hied
He went galumphing back.
“And hast thou slain the Jabberjock?
Come tae ma airms, ma true Scots boy!
Oh frabjous morn! Wee Eck is gorn!”
He chortled in his joy.
‘Twas brilliant, and the slimy toe-
Rag no more gambolled in the glade
And all the mimsy Cybernauts
Their mome wraths had outstayed………
by Max Nix