Temple bodie

Hey, ma bodie's a Temple, ken.

Fit as a fiddle.

A'm mibbe ower twa hunner year auld

Bit A'm in guid shape

A wee bitta lichen here,

Bitta ivy there,

An ma stone scabbles are a touch mingin wi moss

Naethin that a wee dicht o a spring clean

Fae Historic Scotlan couldnae fix.

Oh an clearin the decks a wee bit

O thae trees has fair helpt

Couldnae see a thing so A couldnae

They used tae could see me fae the big hoose

Thocht A wis the bees knees

Aw shinin an gleamin in the echteenth centurie sun.

A hid a drover livin here fir ten year,

An ladies whae lunch ower fae Cally Palace

Drinkin tea fae wee dinkie cheenie cups.

Oh aye, A wis big in ma day.

Noo folk dinna even ken A'm here

Jist burds nestin in ma nooks an crannies

An a'll have ye ken, A'm B listit

It wid be folly tae hiv left me faw tae bits

Ma bodie's a Temple, ken.


Liz Niven

 

The Temple: Diary


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