26/03/06 Hello Again

As many of you will know, my much loved Dad passed away recently and consequently life hasn't felt particularly funny of late ; hence the non-appearance of my usual daily drivel.
Anyway, I'd like to post the poems read at my Dad's funeral as a tribute.
(Tom Mabbott, a good friend of my Dad, read "Epitaph To a Friend", and myself and my sister Ann read "The Blue Doo" ; a poem which was one of my Dad's acclaimed party pieces over the years... He could perform it miles better than I could ever hope to!)



Epitaph to a Friend

An honestman here lies at rest
As e’er God with his image blest;
The friend of man, the friend of truth,
The friend of age, and guide of youth:
Few hearts like his, with virtue warm’d,
Few heads with knowledge so informed:
If there’s another world, he lives in bliss;
If there is none, he made the best of this.



The Blue Doo

There was wunst a wee doo,
An’ this wee doo was blue,
It had got itsel’ right in a mess.
Now it might be that you
Never heard of this doo,
Well ah’ll tell ye for you’d never guess.

Well, this wee doo was seeck,
It had banjo’d its beak,
Jist wi’ stabbin’ a daud of stale breid.
When alang came a boy,
Jist a durrty wee boy,
Who had snotters an’ beasts in his heid.

Said the wee boy – Aw jings!
Ah love a’ things wi’ wings!
An’ he gave the wee doo a big cuddle,
Then he mendit its beak,
He jist gave it a tweak,
Then he saftened its breid in a puddle.

Well, the doo gulped the breid,
It wiz hunger – no’ greed,
An’ it said tae the boy – Thanksalo’,
For yir jist a wee pe’,
An’ ah’ll never forge’
End the truth is it nevah forgot!

So youse people take heed,
Ayeways saften doo’s breid,
An’ never smack boys who have beasts in thir heid,
For ye might smack the boy
Who was good to the doo,
An’ the next thing ye’ll know is –
The doo might get you!