Yalla Bog T' Rothes (Wi' Oor Wullie)
By Jim Bremner

By forest tracks, o'er heather moor.
Keith Ramblers walked th' day.
By bonnie burns 'n' burstin' buds
O' beech 'n' birk's display.
Enjoyin' nature's blessin's
That the "first fine day" can bring
While breathin' fresh pine scented air
Appreciatin' Spring.
Wi' divin' peesies, risin' larks
Lambs loupin' twice their hicht
Each een o's felt the better o'
Each smell, each soun', each sicht.

Except for Wullie; well y' see
Complainin's mair his game.
For a' the good the walk did him,
He'd been as weel at hame.
For whither he got pleasure fae 't
There's neen o' us could tell.
He micht as weel been blin' 'n' deef
'n' short on sense o' smell.

He nivver seen the jinkin' squirrel
Rinnin' through the trees.
Nivver noticed trooties risin'
Nippin' lochan flees.
Nivver heard the yalla yite
Nor yet the curlew's cry.
Nivver smellt the Cratur fae
The 'still' fin passin't by.

He girned aboot the price o' things.
His loon wis on the Broo.
His Cooncil tax wis up again.
His M.O.T. wis due.
His boots he thocht "were lettin' in"
His feet "felt kinda weet".
He swore he "felt a spittie rain"
That "micht yet turn t' sleet".

Gan up each brae he thocht "'twis steep,"
Gan doon his "knees were sair".
He felt a "bittie shivv'ry wi'
A dumpness in the air"
'n' fin he sat at denner time
'n' opened up his piece,
The scrummel't egg fell oot o't
'n' "it markit a' his fleece."

He spread himsel' among us a',
Nae maitter fit oor pace,
So each o's hid t' tak wir share
O' Wullie's greetin' face.
'n' so he mumped 'n' grummel't on,
Till a' oor lugs were sair.
'n' we'd jist aboot decided
That we'd tolerate nae mair.
Bit syne auld Tam he volunteered
T' thole't on oor behalf,
'n' walked alongside Wullie
Wi' his hearin' aid switched aff.

Oor next walk's aicht mile roon' Loch Muick
Anither good day oot
Made better gin Oor Wullie tak's
This flu that's gan aboot.

We Ramblers sympathise wi' fowk
Fa lead a cheerless life
So we a' signed a GREETIN'S card
'n' sent it till his wife.