An Epitaph for a Scottish Man

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Our radio Convenor was reminiscing on air last week about how Scots males were castigated in our day if they carried umbrellas. As he said 'Anybody cairyin wun wiz eether a toffy nose or a poof.' In memory of this I append a wee poem I wrote which is probably the first to mention Penicuik since McGonagall's epic in the 1890's.

Beannachd leat


In Penicuik, that nice wee toon,
The rain wiz poorin doon an doon.
Wi watery hair an soakin clothes,
Wee Wullie through the deluge goes.
No canopy does him protect,
There's a macho image to project.
Wull reaches hame, puir drippin loon,
Nae fires are lit because it's June.
He staggers, shiverin, aff tae bed,
Then wakens up tae find...he's dead!

A martyr to tough manhood's proof,
Wull died a happy fellie.
Naebody cawed that lad a poof,
Fur raisin an umberelly.

Copyright (C) 1995; Tom McRae
Published with kind permission of Tom McRae, Brisbane, Australia

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