Year of Homecoming: Robert Burns
25 January
Today we celebrate the birth, of a poor and humble man,
a son of the soil from Ayrshire, who ploughed and sowed the land.
His birth in a small thatched cottage, didn't bring instant fame,
only the folks in Alloway, were privy to his name.
As he grew in stature, only then did his gift appear,
he had an extraordinary way with words, and with the lasses, far and near.
He dearly loved the ladies, around him they would clamour,
but the one he loved and wedded, was his bonnie Jean Armour.
He entertained the city clique, in their fashion very grand,
no reward and with a family to keep, he returned to toil the land.
In dire need he tried his best, an exciseman he became,
soaked and frozen to the bone, he wearily made for hame.
Recovery was not to be, he died aged thirty seven,
all o'er the world he's lauded now, but even more in heaven.
His words have been prophetic, every day, as our world turns,
coming to fruition, are the hopes of Robert Burns.
- Margaret Biagi 2009
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