Tae a Fish Supper.

Fair fa' yer sonsie haddock or plaice,
Great chieftain o' the battered race;
wi' vinegar laced an' chips an' peas,
A sicht tae mak ye weak at the knees.

Wi' plastic knife I stab ye braw,
An' then staun back an' stare in awe.
Wi' a smell like you it is nae wonder,
My bellie rumbles, lood as thunder.

Is there that ower his haggis an' neeps,
Or ower his Irish stew he peeps,
Wi' envious glances at my plate,
Wishin' it was you he'd ate.

Jock Smith, an ex-pat Scot now living in Winsconsin, USA and renowned Burnsian has sent this little poetical ditty saying :-

"I thought this might bring our members a little humour. For about three years during the early-eighties, I attended a Burns day at the Church of Scotland homes for the elderly in Alloa, Clackmannanshire. The meal was always the same, a fish supper. I decided to write a parody on the Haggis, so with apologies to our Bard, here it is."

A dish like you I hae each day,
As lang as yer din the Itie way,
Wrapped in the Daily Record ye lie,
A finer feed ye'll never spy.

O' Lord, forget yer breed an' jam,
Or great big pieces wi' lumps o' spam.
Tae let me ken I wilna suffer--
Jist gae me a big fish supper.

(This was printed in the 1985 Burns Chronicle.)

A' ra best,
Jock Smith.

Thanks Jock. Great Fun ! If you don't mind me saying…..I can't see you being the subject of an Immortal Memory with this one !!
Mac