2THE SELKIRK GRACE by Robert Burns Some hae meat and canna eat, And some wad eat that want it; But we hae meat, and we can eat, And sae the Lord be thankit
3CA-CANNIE by Sheena Blackhall Fowk say that ye are fit ye eat Sae ca-cannie fin chawin yer meat Swiss rolls an paninis luik daft in bikinis An petticoat tails hae nae feet!
4MINCE AND TATTIES by JK Annand I dinna like hail tattiesPit on my plate o minceFor when I tak my dennerI eat them baith at yince.Sae mash and mix the tattiesWi mince into the mashin,And sic a tasty dennerWill aye be voted ‘Smashin!’
5THE MAGIC PIZZA by Alison Fitt Eh’m a pizza, a magic pizza,Bein stuck in the freezer’s a scunner –So eh grew twa legs an oor agoAn fae Tesco Eh did a runner.Eh’ma pizza, a gaen-mental pizza,Eh’m skitin doon the street,An giein a muckle cheesy grinTae the dumfoonert fowk Eh meet.
6Eh’m a pizza, a please-mehsel pizza, Eh can dae whitiver Eh like –Fleh wi cheese and tomatae weengsOr gae dancin doon a dyke.Eh’m a pizza, an oan-the-rin pizza,The polis are efter me –But they needna think that ony o themAre haein me fur thir tea.Eh’m a pizza, a thumb-yir-neb pizza,Eh’ll tell them tae git loast.Oh jings – Eh’m a puggilt pizza noo –Eh’ve stertit tae defroast!
7CROCODILE by JK AnnandWhen doukin in the River Nile I met a muckle crocodile. He flicked his tail, he blinked his ee, Syne bared his ugsome teeth at me.Says I, "I never saw the like. Cleaning your teeth maun be a fyke ! What sort of besom do ye hae To brush a set o teeth like thae?" The crocodile said, "Nane ava. I never brush my teeth at aa ! A wee bird redds them up, ye see, And saves me monie a dentist's fee."
8NESSIE by JK AnnandNessie the Loch Ness Monster Wad seem to be gey blate, And doesna like the scientist chiels That come, and sit, and wait. But gif ye want to see her Pretend ye dinna care, Keek oot the corner o your ee - Ye'll see her soomin there. She'll wiggle-humphie-waggle, She'll goggle wi her een, Syne disappear ablow the loch Like she had never been.
9A DUG, A DUG by Bill KeysHey, Daddy, wid ye get us a dug ? A big broon alsation ur a wee white pug ? Ur a skinny wee terrier, ur a big fat collie? Aw, daddy,get us a dug. Will yi ? Whit! An' whose dug'll it be when it durties the flerr, An' wets the carpet and messes the sterr? Its me ur yer mammy'll be tane furra mug. Away oot'n play. Yer no getting a dug. But daddy thur gi'en them away Down therr at the RSPCA. Yu'll get wan fur nothin, so ye will. Aw. Daddy, get us a dug, Will ye?
10Dji hear um. Oan aboot dugs again Dji hear um? Oan aboot dugs again? Ah think that yins goat dugs'n the brain. Ah know whit yu'll get: a skite oan the lug If ah hear ony merr aboot this bloomin dug. Aw, Daddy, it widny be dear tae keep An‘ ah'd make it a basket fur it tae sleep. An‘ ah'd take it fur runs away ower the hull. Aw, Daddy, get us a dug. Will ye? A doan't think thurs embdy like you: Yi could wheedle the twist oot a flamin' corkscrew. Noo! Get doon aff my neck. Gies nane a yur hugs. Aw right. THAT'S ANUFF. Ah'll get yi a dug. Aw Daddy. A dug. A dug.
11THE AULD BROON TROOT by Sandy Thomas Ross The auld broon troot lay unner a stane, Unner a stane lay he, An he thocht o' the wund, An he thocht o' the rain, An the troot that he uist tae be. A'm a gey auld troot, said he tae hissel, A gey auld troot, said he, An there's mony a queer-like Tale A cuid tell O' the things that hae happened tae me.
12They wee-hafflin trooties are aa verra smert, They're aa verra smert, said he, They ken aa the rules O' the gemm aff by hairt, An they're no aften catched, A'll agree. They're thinkin A'm auld an they're thinkin A'm duin, They're thinkin A'm duin, said he, They're thinkin A'm no Worth the flirt o' a fin Or the blink o' a bonnie black ee. But A'm safe an A'm smug in ma bonnie wee neuk, A'm safe an A'm snug, said he, A'm the big fush that Nae fusher can heuk, An A'll aye be that - till A dee!
13THE SCHULE IN JUNE by Robert Bain There's no a clood in the sky, The hill's clear as can be, An' the broon road's windin' ower it, But - no for me!It's June, wi' a splurge o' colour In glen an' on hill, An' it's me wad be lyin' up yonner, But then - there's the schule.
14There's a wude wi' a burn rinnin' through it, Caller an' cool, Whaur the sun splashes licht on the bracken An' dapples the pool.There's a sang in the soon' o' the watter, Sang sighs in the air, An' the worl' disnae maitter a docken To yin that's up there.
15A hop an' a step frae the windie, Just fower mile awa, An' I could be lyin' there thinkin' O' naething ava'.Ay! - the schule is a winnerfu' place, Gin ye tak it a' roon, An' I've no objection to lessons, Whiles - but in June?
16SLAISTER by JK Annand Mum cries me a slaister, Says naethin could be waurNor mellin sand and waterAnd slaisterin in the glaur.When I'm aa glaur and slaistertAnd clarty as a tinkMum maks a graith o soap sudsAnd plops me in the sink.Syne when I'm washed and tidiedAnd clean as clean can beMy Mum gies me a cuddleAnd maks me chips for tea.
17THAT'S THE GAME by Jill Bennett A poem, huhAh could eat a poemTak a biteGet ma teeth intae itRattle it roond ma gumsChew real slowSpit a word ootKick it alang the streetPlay keepie-uppie wi itHeider itBring on a substituteScore a goalThat's the game
18MENZIES TraditionalA canty wee lassie cried Menzies Speired, "Dae ye ken whit this thenzies?" Her Maw, wi a gasp, Reponed, "It's a wasp! And ye're haudin the end whaur the stenzies!
19FIREWORKS AFF THE CASTLE by Matthew Fitt Goin WHEECH, WHEECH, WHEECHBairns in the libraryGettin WHEESHT, WHEESHT, WHEESHTCans o Irn Bru GoinSKOOSHITAY, SKOOSHITAY, SKOOSHFitbaw in the playgroondGettin DOOSHITAY, DOOSHITAY, DOOSH
20The snaw blaws in fae Norroway And nips your TAES, TAES, TAESWe go skitin on wir sledgesDoon the BRAES, BRAES, BRAESThe rain comes doon in bucketsAnd it’s WEET, WEET, WEETYour teeth is sair fae sweetiesAnd it’s GREET, GREET, GREET
21You’re oot wi pals and aw the time It’s BLETHER, BLETHER, BLETHERBut when awthin’s wrang and no goin rightJist go and tell your MITHERWhen awthin’s wrang and no goin rightJist you coorie in wi MITHER
22TWA-LEGGIT MICE by JK Annand Ma mither says that we hae mice That open air-ticht tins And eat her chocolate biscuits And cakes and sic like things.Nae doot it is an awfy shame That mice should get the blame. It’s really me that ripes the tins When left alane at hame.But jings I get fair hungert And biscuits taste sae nice But dinnae tell ma mither For she thinks it’s the mice!
23BEASTIES by Helen Cruickshank Clock-leddy, clock-leddyFlee awa' hame,Your lum's in a lowe,Your bairns in a flame;Reid-spottit jeckit,An' polished black e'e,Land on my luif, an' bringSiller tae me!
24Ettercap, ettercap,Spinnin' your threid,Midges for denner, an'Flees for your breid;Sic a mischanterBefell a bluebottle,Silk roond his feet -Your hand at his throttle!
25Moudiewarp, moudiewarp, Howkin' an' scartin',Tweed winna please ye,Nor yet the braw tartan,Silk winna suit ye,Naither will cotton,Naething, my lord, but theVelvet ye've gotten.
26Street Talk by JK Annand There was a rammie in the street,A stishie and stramash.The crabbit wifie up the stairPit up her winda sash.“Nou what’s adae?” the wifie cried,“Juist tell me what’s adae.”A day is twinty-fower hours, missis,Nou gie us peace to play.
27“Juist tell me what’s ado,” she cried, “And nane o yer gab,” cried she.D’ye no ken a doo’s a pigeon, missis?Nou haud your wheesht a wee.“I want to ken what’s up,” she cried,“And nae mair o yer cheek, ye loun.”It’s only yer winda that’s up, missis.For guidsake pit it doun.
28THE BOY IN THE TRAIN by Mary Campbell Smith Whit wey does the engine say Toot-toot? Is it feart to gang in the tunnel? Whit wey is the furnace no pit oot When the rain gangs doon the funnel? What’ll I hae for my tea the nicht? A herrin’, or maybe a haddie? Has Gran’ma gotten electric licht? Is the next stop Kirkcaddy?
29There’s a hoodie-craw on yon turnip-raw! An’ sea-gulls! — sax or seeven. I’ll no fa’ oot o’ the windae, Maw, It’s sneckit, as sure as I’m leevin’. We’re into the tunnel! we’re a’ in the dark! But dinna be frichtit, Daddy, We’ll sune be comin’ to Beveridge Park, And the next stop’s Kirkcaddy!
30Is yon the mune I see in the sky? It’s awfu’ wee an’ curly.See! there’s a coo and a cauf ootbye, An’ a lassie pu’in’ a hurly!He’s chackit the tickets and gien them back, Sae gie me my ain yin, Daddy.Lift doon the bag frae the luggage rack, For the next stop’s Kirkcaddy!
31There’s a gey wheen boats at the harbour mou’, And eh! dae ye see the cruisers?The cinnamon drop I was sookin’ the noo Has tummelt an’ stuck tae ma troosersI’ll sune be ringin’ ma Gran’ma’s bell, She’ll cry, ‘Come ben, my laddie.’For I ken mysel’ by the queer-like smell That the next stop’s Kirkcaddy!’
32A VOODOO FOR MISS MAVERICKby Sandy Thomas Ross I dinna like Miss Maverick This cushion's for her heid I'm jumpin aw ma weicht on it And noo Miss Maverick's deid.Ye're deid, ye're deid, Miss Maverick And never mair ye'll say I dance like a hird o Ayrshire kye On a mercat day.I'll pit ye ablaw the sofa Ye're deid and yirdit baith An never mair ye'll miscaw me - Ye've drawn yer hindmaist braith.
33THE CIRCUS by JK AnnandThe circus cam to our toun And settled on the Green; They heistit up the biggest tent That I hae ever seen. And there for twa-and-saxpence He let me in to see Some acrobats up in the ruif Dae henners on a swee.
34Pownies danced the cha-cha, Monkeys rade on bikes, They even had a fitba match For teams o mongrel tykes. The best turn in the circus was The clown in baggy breeks That gart me lauch until the tears Cam rinnin doun my cheeks.