The Cow and the Photographer

The cow and the photographer

Beddit in ma comfy grund 

Chowin’ on ma dreams 

I spied ye wi ma half shut ee 

An’ heard yer pechs and groans. 

As on ye struggl’t up ma hill 

An’ heft up oan yer back 

A monster wi three legs or mair 

Came climbin’ oot yer sack. 

A many splindered whirligig 

It danced upon the rocks 

Until ye got the better o’ it 

An’ tied it doon wi blocks 

The horny-goloch wisnae beat 

Its legs it push’d an’ sprouted 

An’ afore I even kent ma’sel 

I had hupped and shouted. 

But as the sun began to rise 

It clutched ye tae its breest 

Despite ma warnings and ma cries 

It wis aboot tae feast. 

So up I stotted tae yer aid 

I couldnae tak nae mair 

An’ looked the beastie in the eye 

An’ gied ma cauldest stare. 

But whit a stramash did ye stir 

Ye shouted, screamed and cried 

An’ then ye picked a muckle stane 

An’ at ma heid ye shied. 

Weel patience din I charged ye baith 

It folded wi’ a shunt 

An’ you ye graceless donnert man 

Went fleein’ wi a dunt. 

An’ galloped aff wi scittered shanks 

Yer breek arse at yer ankles 

Wi’oot a single word o’ thanks 

As the monster lay in fankles.