Haggis

The Haggis lives a solitary life On mountainsides and braes Foraging, for slugs and snails Is how he spends his days But come the rutting season A change in him you’ll find He’ll go out searching, high and low For others of his kind His plumage changes colour From brown to scarlet red A pair of tree like antlers He sports upon his head Then if a female he should sense On hind legs, at full height Lets out his raucous mating call In the Scottish summer night The pair perform their mating dance In amongst the heather Then when the dance is over Go at it, hell for leather In just six weeks the brood is born And unlike any other They suckle at their fathers breast And not that of the mother When the weaning’s over They’ll go their separate ways Foraging for slugs and snails On the mountains and the braes If you find yourself in Scotland And you hear a raucous cry Still your heart, be not afraid Tis just the Haggii © 22-01-2009