Seeking a Wife
by: Mackie, Dr Lewis
Fan I did enter man’s estate,
I played the field tae find a mate.
My mither shook her heid betimes,
Dootin she’d iver hear weddin chimes,
For aye there wis a faut tae find
That didna suit or wis maligned.
This een’s size or this een's looks,
This een niver oot o’ books.
This een short o’ tocher cash,
This een’s temper unco brash.
She couldna cook or she couldna bake,
Her scones wid mak a man’s jaw ache!
So oot tae Granny ae day I wint
An’ tell’t her my predicament.
An’ fae that kindly wardly dame
These words o’ wisdom gave a gleam
0’ hope that took me fae despair
An’ solved the puzzle that tried me sair.
For fit she said became my guide
On lookin for a likely bride!
“It’s nae her looks nor yet her size,
Bit jist her wordies an’ her wyes.”
An’ lookin’ sair for jist that sign
I found a dumplin’ o’ a quine,
Plain o’ face, wi’ couthie tongue.
Her beauty niver wid be sung.
A kindly lass that suited fine,
An’ I seen asked her tae be mine.
Noo there I got mysel a treasure,
For naebody has reached her measure.
In fifty years that we’ve been wed,
The happiest o’ lives we’ve led.
So fan oor bairns div cam o’ age
Tae look for mates, I act the sage,
An’ warn them if they meet their fate,
Before they even set the date,
Tae guage love nae by looks or size,
For they are fleetin’ things tae prize.
Na, na its me their looks nor size,
It’s jist their wordies an’ their wyes!