HAGGIS HORROR

HAGGIS HORROR by Ian Thomson

My Love and I went hiking on the slopes of dark Ben Down,
Thick mist descended, we got lost, strayed off the path to town
My heart near stopped, as through the murk, I heard an off- tune whistle.
The chilling sound as bull Haggis played pibroch on a thistle.

Next there came a rasping , grinding, gave me quite a shock,
It was an old bull Haggis, sharpening tusks on granite rock.
I searched in vain for someplace for my love and I to hide,
As louder came the crashing sounds of Haggis in full stride.

The beast appeared, in all his horror, through the clearing fog
He eyed us with a piggy eye, then snorted, spat in bog.
I tried to make some contact, "I'm a married man" I said,
"This is my wife, my love, I think you should take her instead."

Just when I thought my time had come, I heard another noise,
Bagpipes and wee dogs barking; Haggis hunters, men and boys.
Mounted on their Shetland ponies, their West Highland terrier pack
Had tracked down the herd of Haggis and saved us from their attack

So if you are out hiking in the mountains to the North,
Beware of rogue bull Haggis paddling in the Firth of Forth.
And if you want to make sure you escape him with your life,
Then better do what I do, and always take your wife