Kisses fae Robin
Robin’s giein’ lots o’ kisses,
A’body gets them; lads an’ misses,
Brither, sisters, dad an’ mammy,
(Lips are often sticky, jammy).
Even when new tricks he’s tried,
Robin’s never satisfied,
‘Til he shapes his tiny mou’,
An’ lines the family in a queue.
Gaun tae cot, or efter meals,
Mony are the fond fareweels.
Solemn face an’ twinkling eyes,
Lifted up tae say goodbyes.
I doot he’ll no’ be aye like this’
Giein’ a’ an’ sundry kiss,
But jings! It shows he is nae dunce,
Oor Robin, nearly eighteen months.
