Cut-Short Tale Of A Torn-Off Tail Poem by Douglas Scotney

'Twas not because he loved the devil
and the deil lo'ed him,
that Tam turned to the gate
on his grey mare
in the darkest hour after market day at Ayr,
wham* a town surpasses ne'er
for honest men and lasses fair.

He wouldn't overnight there,
because Kate was at home, no doubt fuming,
and Tam was fearless coz fou - plastered;
unco fou - just short of totalled.

Tween-script:
If a 'tipenny' was asked for by a Scot,
an ale worth that was what he got.

To skip to witches' strathspeys and reels -
actually,2 lines later:

in a winnock-bunker, a window seat,
Kirk Alloway was sitting -
I mean,
in a winnock-bunker in Kirk* Alloway,
the devil was sitting screwing bagpipes
(a person doesn't 'play' them) .

In hiding
and still a-horse,
Tam, alas,
gasped too loud at Nannie the witch,
dancing in a super-short chemise
she'd worn as a lass.

In the ensuing chase, she
tore off Meg's tail
as they sped over a bridge
to safety:

witches, it seems,
cannot cross running streams.