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The Green Waxit Jaicket ©

Ian Gordon
Tayport, Scotland
2008

I loved my green waxit jaicket
It was filled with soft goose down
It kept me dry in wind and snow
It was more than a friend to me

It enclosed me like a lover
Keeping me snug and warm
I knew that when I wore it
I would never come to harm

Many pockets did it have
Plus a poacher's pooch as well
Zips there were all around
And a pokey for my phone

We would tramp the hills thegither
and over heather moors
Twa like minded souls thegither
inseparable as two school pals

We heard the whaup a calling
We heard the red deer roar
We saw the red fox hunting
We saw the eagle soar

Down at the rushing water
We would watch the salmon leap
Desperate to make the spawning grounds
Before they came too weak

Alas upon a barbed wire fence
My green waxit jaicket tore
I cursed and swore in a rage
And the rip was down the back

I cannie wear my jaicket
And I am fair upset
Cause if I try to wear it
You will see my flannel sark.



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