Sue bore the groaning trencher, Alex thoucht that he’d surprise her
But weel deserved her censure-
She got the whisky – no the Tizer.
.
Alex has a loyal, saintly wife,
As ony yin can see
He also has a muckle knife –
Like Crocodile Dundee!
.
Alex can be a villain
Tae him I mak request –
“Don’t tak the haggis that yer spillin’
And throw it at a guest.”
.
The haggis his wife hud carried
He’d addressed tae wild applause
But a portion noo is buried
Beneath tomato sauce!
.
I freely mak admission
It wis the thin end o’ the wedge
When we compromised tradition
Allowin’ haggis made o’ “veg.”
.
I don’t like change. I’m bothered
And never hope tae see
The dram a piper’s offered
Become a”little G & T.”
.
Alex cam up tae oor table,
Pale-faced wi’ wattery een.
Tae speak – he wis hardly able
Tae recoont whit he had seen.
.
His wails near made the rafters ring
His anguish deep and sudden
” A haggis is an unco thing-
No jist a mealie pudden!”
.
Wha could hae seen it comin’?
Not even Nostradamus
Could foretell that yon wee wuman
Could be sic an ignoramus!
.
Her crime few could imagine –
Wis wan we’ll ne’er forget,
Jist hoo a single bad yin
Can breach oor etiquette.
.
Auld women wearin’ sandles
Are weel kent fur their faults.
So are the unwashed vandals
Pittin’ coke in single malts!
.
I look wi’ sneerin’ scorfu’ view
And confess I’m at a loss.
It’s a sicht tae mak an auld sow spew –
Haggis drooned in tomato sauce!
.
Och cronies it does gie me grief
And even cause me sorrow.
The sicht I see is beyond belief –
Haggis drooned in “Pomi d’ Doro.”
.
When Alex orders up yer bottle
And asks me “Whit is mines?”
I’m share that me – he’d throttle
If I asked for yin frae Heinz.
.
Tae pit a ban on tomato sauce
Wid not prevent such tricks.
I suspect and that’s jist because
Heinz hae anither fifty-six!
.
Tae preserve future Supper’s purity
And avoid all such depravities,
We maun get S.N.P. Security
Tae search auld wives claes an’ cavities.
.
I’d like tae meet that saucy dame
It wid gie her quite a shock
Tae find oot the soup’s richt name
The French ca’ed it Leek and Cock!
.
“Soup” is the same word fur “Frog” or “Jock.”
Tho’ it micht be “Cordon Bleu.”
The French fur “Cock” is also “Coq”
Tho’ they spell it wi’ a “Q.”
.
The French fur leek is “Poireaux.”
It sounds like you-know-who!
It chills me tae the marrow
Tae translate the “parlez – vous.”
.
I watched that auld wife like a hawk
And thocht aboot the sleuth
Presented wi’ the “Pioreaux Coq,”
She opened wide her mooth.
.
She said “That tasted very nice.
But know that in “Auld Reekie,
I’ve had the same soup once or twice.
We ca’ it Cock-a-leekie!”
Andy Mc Gowan
January 2025