I couldn't give a toss for the caber
cromach bagpipes sporran or kilt
(a fling's the thing)
and you can stick your dirk in your haggis
up to its bog-wood hilt
yet I'd like to hike through the heather
on happy Sassenach holidays
see the scenery admire the view
along Scottish hilly highways and byways
to pick a pink-purple thistle or two
and should I come upon a hairy Highland cow
on the hoof in a friendly farmer's flink fold
(for protection from the cold)
in no uncertain terms I would declare
"I say to you, hoo noo broon coo?"
och aye no sooner said than done
than perchance from the Caledonian bovine one
the reply too true in a Scots burr would come...
'Moo!'
Categories:
sporran, animal, fun, humorous, silly,
Form: Rhyme
On the Isle of Skye, water runs down the Cuillin mountains into waterfall streams
It's a beautiful and tranquil place
Where the local fairies live, play and dream
A red-bearded Scotsman walks from his village
He carries his beloved bagpipes in hand
He heads to the magical Fairy Pools
To play for the fairies hiding among the heather stalks growing in the lush green land
Clad in a kilt of dark blue and green
They know it's their friend that's come to play
His emotional bagpipe songs are the only things
That make them emerge from their hideaway
The fairies love the skirl of the bagpipes
It brings their soul delight
Their tiny wings flutter with joy and elation
While they surround him in flight
When he's finished playing, he reaches into his horsehair sporran
Hanging from his waist
To feed the fairies bits of wild-grown raspberries
They absolutely love their taste
He will come back to play for them soon on another day
They love their friend in the blue and green kilt
With his beloved bagpipes and the songs that he will play
Categories:
sporran, fairy, fantasy, song,
Form: Rhyme
its a kilt and not a quilt we are free dangling souls
not out of kilter for we value balance and freedom
there is no hidden agenda as we battle opposition
with harmony and steadfast equilibrium let loose
left right left right we march on belligerent fields
careful not to have the kilt pin pierce our pride
in case of too much passion we hide any sense
of arousal although war is an emotional business
dressed in sporran and fastening strapping we fight
for our women children and fierce independence
we tread through mountains valleys and thistles
prick resistance and domination right where it hurts
swords lances and crossbows spill justice’s seeds
maces and tribuchets defend rightful possessions
caltrop and quick lime disperse our enemy’s lines
cull sculls and bones of our foes and burn with desire
today it is the ballot box and rugby pitches on which
we stake our claim where we score tries and convert
stand up to history’s decline and conquer intolerance
and the Tartan Armies march on in elevated disguise
02nd March 2021
Categories:
sporran, anti bullying,
Form: Free verse
Jock always wore a sporran and kilted
Wore a clan tartan hat that looked quilted
But couldn't cope with the stares
And so now trousers he wears
Cos everything below has now wilted...
Word got round the town now everyone knows
Why Jock has taken to wearing strange clothes
He used to flash all his bits
Have the young lassies in fits
But now too embarrassed when the wind blows...
(a sporran is a small leather pouch worn with a kilt that serves as a wallet as kilts don't have pockets)
Written 26 September 2020.
Categories:
sporran, humor,
Form: Limerick
Did you hear about Angus McMorran
Who was out playing golf with wife,Lauren?
Her incredible force
Sent the ball right off course
But at least it steered clear of his sporran!
03.03.19
'Make Me Actually Lol 2 Poetry Contest'-sponsored by Nina Parmenter
Categories:
sporran, golf, humor,
Form: Limerick
The Big Green Fence
Life carried on
behind the big green fence.
It seemed negativity
could not penetrate
the faded paint outside.
Depression, wars, lost their sting
once one crossed that threshold.
I remember my uncle home on leave
dressed in his kilt and sporran. I did not know at the time
that it would be the last visit of the man I
recognized. He changed after the war
as if Uncle Joe had vacated the premises.
Uncle Stan was in the merchant Marine off of the
east coast. He came home with
a tattoo on his right arm. Time seemed slower
at the pace of the children living in
the grey stone house. We never feared strangers
or playing alone outside because the fence, like a warm
embrace, radiated love and safety. There were lawns of soft
plush grass to roll in and once a pony came by for pictures.
Flower beds well tended, jewels heaped here and there.
All of this floats in my memory now
a rainbow stream of myriad colours, softened by
time and distance. The remnants of that peace
remains grounded in my heart.
Categories:
sporran, how i feel,
Form: Free verse
They say that life is quiet up North
Amongst the purple heather
But what we always have to do
Is keep an eye on the blooming weather
Politics are now stirring up among the powers that be
For Teresa May is determined that Brexit we will see
'It's no for us' says Nicola Sturgeon, determined that I am
For if the Tories have their way, we'll not even have a dram
So, shout we must, gather together, kilts and sporran ready
For if we don't react right now, Scotland won't be steady
Only today, the PM announced a turn around on the election
So what Scotland has to do right now is show her our big rejection!
Categories:
sporran, patriotic, political,
Form: Free verse
There was a time in Scotland when
Three hundred years before,
The English laws sought to condemn
The Scots for what they wore.
The sporran, kilt and tartan shawl,
One each for every clan,
Steeped in tradition, symbols all -
The culture of a land.
The laws unleashed by English King
They Scottish rights denied
Intent upon dismantling
Their power and their pride.
"For national security" -
A lie to justify
Oppression and state bigotry,
To which most do comply.
The past is past, you well might say,
Now Scots their colours don -
But now new laws proposed today
Cast doubt on freedoms won.
That same old lie, "Security"
Has stirred up hate and fear
Towards Muslims in our country
Now marked for what they wear.
In all this time, what have we learned?
Are we condemned to see
The same old fear and hate return
For all of history?
October 15, 2015
Categories:
sporran, discrimination,
Form: Quatrain
I was visiting the Dixie Poetry Service
And I must be honest, you see
Something there, was making me nervous
For they, were making more money than me
A challenged was made and the gauntlet was laid
Though many stepped up to the plate
They were having a time with a difficult rhyme
While an orange, laid still as of late
They all took a turn, then suddenly learned
That their efforts have, met with disaster
For rhyming of words, I thought they've all heard
That "I" am truly The Master
Y’all, step aside, and you shall see
How a Master rhymes with an orange
I stand in my kilt and before it can wilt
I place it with care in my Sporran ..............Ha lol
Nailed it in 15 Jer O Matic (The poetry machine)
Categories:
sporran, fun, humor,
Form: Rhyme
I'm doing a little highland dancing
and I've gone commando under my kilt
I lay down my claymore
Then dance around the hilt .
but I slipped and did the splits
Now I'm only slightly built .
Dah, Dah, Twiddly , Dah
Twiddly Twiddly Dee
Let go of your sporran
and come and dance with me .
You have to go commando
and expose your hairy knee's
Belts off Troosers down
Let your bits dangle in the breeze
Ignore the flashing blue lights
Tell the police men to sod off
I'll come and visit you in prison
The next time I have another day off.
Dah , Dah , Twiddly , Dah
Twiddly , Twiddly , Dee
Let go of your sporran
and come and dance with me.
Categories:
sporran, funny,
Form: Verse
JOCK AND HIS DOG
Once knew a Scottish dancing geezer
Accidentally locked his dog in the freezer:
Seems the animal had just spilt
Some curds and milk all over his kilt:
Must have soaked right through his sporran.
(The dog of course was foreign .)
No Scots dog would do such a thing
As spill stuff mid a highland fling.
As Jock took stock of his tartan man-frock
The whole episode had been such a shock
The door of the freezer shut itself slam -
The dog was locked in with the ice cream and ham.
Oh but the key couldn’t be found,
Though Jock looked all around on the ground.
Turned out the dog had the key in his teeth -
He’d stolen it from the sporran sheath.
Poor dog got real cold till the police came,
Opened the freezer and on Jock placed blame.
But the dog hadn’t really suffered so cruel;
He’d eaten all the ice cream as fuel.
And the kilt was no worse for wear. . . .
But Jock’s sporran had lost all its hair.
Categories:
sporran, funnydog, dog,
Form: Couplet