Auld Robert Burns

by Alesha Linda Hollick aged 12

Ranting, raving Robert
Och, so poor
Born to a farmer and a loving, religious, strict mother
Even if he slept in the rafters
Robert was so talented
The day his last son was born was when he died

Bonnie Burns lies as still as a statue today
Ugly William Shakespeare takes your legacy for England
Rats scurry where you used to sleep
Now you have a lovely snug cave
Snow falls on you

 

 

3 Responses to “Auld Robert Burns”

  • Roger Stevens

    Good work, Alesha. (BUT PLEASE don’t send poems all in capital letters. I have to write them out again.) Not sure that ugly is the right word there.

    Reply
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