The Fermer
Whit is't that mak's a fermer noo.
Yon blend o' vet' and' engineer.
He'd talk a' day on crop or coo'
A very sage on things, it's clear.
It maun be in his bluid tae be
this mixture – weather prophet tae!
Peetyin' chiels like you an' me,
trauchlin' on our city way.
Though fermin's sich a chancy keel,
there's somethin 'rare aboot the breed
wha' reaps oor grain, keeps pigs as weel,
an' lives by land an' ploo' and seed.
The care o' beast, the plantin' oot,
that age-auld, hard-won yearly strife.
(I'd best remember hens, nae doot
entrusted tae the willin' wife!)
It's said they grumble - mebbie so -
but shair I am it's a' worth while.
They folk wi' byres an' things that grow
are maist contented-like, an' smile.
