TWA BRAW LASSES

(Dedicated to Mary & Elizabeth Kirkin’ o’the Tartan. November 29th, 1998)

Twa braw lasses at the Kirk door,

Showin aff ther tartan - Scottish tae the core.

Shakin hauns wae a’ the folk - the Jeannies, Boabs an Maggies.

Who’d heard aboot Mark’s sermon - an insult to the Haggis!

Aw black afront it - spoilin’ fur a fight.

Afore this day wiz ower they’d defend this cruel blight.

‘Wha daur meddle wae us’ - was their battle cry.

Afore we see anither day, this meenister will fry.

We’ll fry him wae the haggis, an purritch cut in slices.

For oan this very special day he’s creatit quite a crisis.

They filled the pews, their faces lang - their backs were stiff an rigid;

Their hauns they clasped in pious grip - the atmosphere wiz frigid.

Then Mark approached the pulpit resplendent in his kilt.

He looked upon his people - you could tell his heart wiz fillt.

He geid us sich a lesson aboot oor National dish.

It wiz kinda like the other wan aboot the breed an fish.

Ye coulda heard a pin drap in the crowded church yon day.

We wur a’ that fascinatit by whit Mark hid tae say.

An we a’ left much wiser, sae enriched by this occurrence.

Noo we’ve elevated Mark - alangside Rabbie Burns!

By  Ena  McCulloch  (Canada)  nee   Ena McCartney from Glasgow