The Stalk of Kail
There grows in my wee plot of ground
A vegetable strong and clean;
I’ve watched it rear the winter round
One stalk of kail - or curly green.
I like this plant, it’s foliage grand
Has something homely in its mien.
(It seems we’re living off the land
When picking kail or curly green.)
We feared for it in recent weeks,
With snowy blast and frost so keen.
But straight up by my ’draggled leeks
Stood bonny, bushy curly green.
So fresh it looks when chopped up small
For tattie soup or broth a wheen,
‘Tis then I like it best of all,
My stalk of kail – my curly green.
Now some there are may scoff at this;
All I can say, and this I mean.
When season changes then I’ll miss
My crop of kail – or curly green.
