An hour is a lang, lang time
when sweet it is remembered
a tune that fill’d the mountain pass
the moment that we enter’d
Though devious pleasures can be sought
and certus there are plenty
I’m happier with a single thought
happier far wi’ twenty
the weary warld is owre too sma’
the seasons mair the pity
A smile o’glee and enchantment
amidst the dole dank city
A poet is blessed wi’many things
but canny count on money
nae spoken word within ma dream
I wish tae take that journey
Now, the transient tune must fade
and memories live to ponder
to tap the well of life’s long spring
and lea’e us free tae wonder
Smeddum's Hotpotch 