THE FERRY FAIR POEM

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

The Ferry Fair Festival Committee is a Charity registered in Scotland SCO43392

www.ferryfair.co.uk created by Meikle Lane