Another Shetland poem, by the same author.
A Pirr o' Wind Da merchant an' da meenister, Dey hed a sailin' boat, Da meenister geed as da crew, Da merchant, captain o' it. Doon trowe da years, dey alwis were A force tae reckon wi', At a' regattas winnin' cups, Whaur ever dey micht be. Till ee year at regatta time, Da wind wis faa'en awa, Da ocean wis flat as a loch, Black calm lay ower a'. Da merchant telled da meenister, "Afore du lays dee doon Doo'll aks tae git a pirr o' wind Fae Him at bides abune." Next moarnin' wis regatta day, An hit wis just a gale, Nae wadder for a battleship Or ony boat tae sail. Da merchant raikkett for da phone, An' tae his freend said "Sir, Whit med dee pray for sic a day, An' no a peerie pirr?" From 'Tochts on Shetland Life'
by T M Laurenson
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