Good idea, Michael. Here's one.
Angus And Morag
They were playmates together, as teenagers, lovers,
yes Angus and Morag were matched from the start
in that rare combination where first love discovers
a lifetime of joy: hand in hand, heart to heart.
So they entered their sixties in relative bliss
but despite constant trying, were barren—no child;
in their near-perfect lives this one thing was amiss
then old Morag got pregnant. The village went wild.
Some never believed it until she had swelled
and some would still doubt till her labour was through
so Angus, proud father, said as he upheld
his new daughter, “Just wait till they hear about you.”
Then Morag, the practical one of the twosome,
said “Angus, it’s not in our nature to boast,
but just once in a lifetime... tomorrow you’ll do some
newspaper announcing—the Highlander’s Post!”
The following night he came in looking guilty,
“So has the announcement been published today?”
He shambled across to the bed, slow and wilty,
“So out with it, Angus! Which cow went astray?”
"It was awful expensive—a hellish high cost—
over three thousand pounds was the price I'd to pay!"
"Over three thousand pounds! Why, Angus, that's most
of the money we’ve saved—what on earth did you say?"
"They flummoxed me, Morag. My brains went a-scatter;
I shouldn’t have told them—I’d carefully thought
it all out and I gave them the usual patter
and that was all fine... but... but then..." "But then what?"
"Why Morag they moved on to personal questions!"
"Those newspaper people—all gossip and ears!"
"I said when they asked me "How many insertions?"
"Och, five times a week for forty-five years.""
|