by Alfred Abernethy
When I cam by the burning sun
It winked at me and said, ‘My son.
If houghmagandyÂ 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 everyÂ mother, sister, brother
IsÂ bornÂ 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
AndÂ if ye wantÂ God’s Connel oven
Ye’ll have taeÂ askÂ Saint Peter’.