Wednesday, 17 April 2013

While Moany An Een is Mistin Up.

      I know it's supposed to be a poem-a-day throughout April, and there already has been one, but I just received this from a comrade and due to the solemnity of this day, I thought that this one should be read.

New poem by Rab Wilson 
The Lanely Daith o Maggie Thatcher

The day they’re mindin her wi hauf-mast flags,
Neist week they’ll spend ten million oan her kistin,
Whiles Tony Blair, wi grief his een are mistin,
Nae dout he’ll bray wi aa the ither windbags,
Wha’ll gaither in the House tae sing her praise;
They’ll deftly whitewaash ower Pinochet,
Mandela’s refusal tae jine her fir some tea....
But frien ah’ve mind o ither lang-gane days,
New Cumnock here in Ayrshire aince wis bien,
Wi pits an factories pourin wages in,
Nou evriwhaur ye luik the place is duin,
Her ‘legacy’ tae us? a thing obscene!
Her room’s redd-up an trig nou at the Ritz –
Mercat forces wull see she isnae missed.

ann arky's home.

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