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Ferry Fair Poem by John Watson 2009
Whit is a the fuss aboot
Whitever`s
goin doon
The place
is in a ferment
There`s a
buzz aboot the toon
Men are
climin ladders
Stringin
lines o flags
An hingin
muckle banners
That
they`re pullin oot o bags
There`s
kids haudin paper sheets
Wearin oot
their shoes
Runnin
frae one shop tae anither
While
their mithers gie them clues
There`s a
prickly figure a in green
Stumblin
roon the place
Sic a
sight ye`ve never seen
like a man
frae ooter space
And noo I
hear the skirl o pipes
As doon
the hill they stride
Led bi a
weel kent Ferry lad
Wearin his
uniform wi pride
He`s
ringin his bell as he leads them on
Could ony
man be prooder
An is that
a pair o brand new boots
hingin
ower his shooder?
An here`s
a wifie fair done up
In a smert
new dress for Summer
Haudin the
airm o a muckle lad
-He must
be heid bummer!
Noo its
the bairns lookin grand
In their
pretty frock or kilt
As they
march behind the band
Tae the
platform - jist new bilt
There`s
the queenie oan her seat
An the
herald speerin loud
Then the
bows an curtsies neat
Tae
delight the cheerin crowd
A richt
braw day it`s turnin oot
Could
onybody ask for mair
Whit is a
the fuss about
- Och
it`s anither Ferry Fair!
John Watson 2009
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