Ma frien' the robin brings delicht
On winter morn an summer nicht,
Intae ma garden it flees free
An sits on ma wee apple tree,
Watchin every move a make
Watin' fur ma hame made cake.
A cheeky wee thing, thats fur sure,
Bobbin' aboot sae self asure,
Chasin a' the birds awa'
Wha dare tae come: Or dare tae craw,
It stauns its full three inches high
Its totty wee heid streechin tae the sky.
He's the maister o' his bit
Sic a wee thing, an' haurdly fit,
Tae staun up tae the bigger yins
Wha' pester him fur a' his sins,
Come rain, or shine, or wind ,or snaw
He's ma frien', Aye!! he's jist sae braw.
By Anne MacGregor year 2001
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You can use this material in its entirety,
for non-profit
Giving reference to the writer.
Dalziel Parish
1798
1836
1942-2001
