Creation

When I cam by the burning sun

It winked at me and said, ‘My son.

If houghmagandy what’s you need

Yed better try Barheid’

Says I tae God

‘It’s baser laws

That navigate my itching ba’s

Tae safer places.

Gie me a keek at Connel street

Where all are welcome up each stair

And every mother, sister, brother

Is born sin clear.’

The Lord had washed me clean of sin.

‘I’ll have to ask yon lovely yin,’ he said.

Wha keeps heaven’ s store in bread. Forbye.

I love her oven.’

Then up and spak an auld auld carl.

And Dougie was his name.

From Taynuilt unto Benderloch

Eloquence was his fame.

‘At Connel no one lands their plane

They charge ye by the meter

And if ye want God’s Connel oven

Ye’ll have tae ask Saint Peter’.

Ardchattan Observer