Sheena Blackhall

Gold Star - 6,038 Points (18/8/1947 / Aberdeen)

Danse Macabre (22 Scots Poems) - Poem by Sheena Blackhall

1.Kings is the perfect place tae be Tune: Oh No John etc

Come tae Kings fin May is bloomin
Wird is there. Ye'll surely meet
Buik prize winners, sancts an sinners
Dinna wyte, ensure yer seat
Kings is the perfect place tae be

Taiko drummers, Manga, Ceilidhs
Mair nur saxty authors here
Film an barderie, Art, theatre
North East highlicht o the year
Kings serves a cannie cup o tea

Ireland, Spain, America Bulgaria
Petrarch, Darwin ghaistie trains
Doric, Gaelic, bring yer uncle Alec
Best o claik an brichtest brains
Kings brings ye tales o seannachie

Tartan Noir, First Aid fur Fairies
Unicorns an Whiskey tours
Eejits, Readin Bus an Bogies
Trysts in Zoo at the Midnicht Oors
Kings brings ye things o oddity

Dinna dauchle buik yer ticket
Throw the university
See the treisurs therein gaithered
Fit's mair some events are free
Kings is the perfect place tae be!

2.Daith's Hit-List of the Makars With apologies to William Dunbar & Kenneth C. Calman

MacCaig, Maclean, prood Lord Byron
Ian Crichton-Smith, swack Henryson
Fergusson, Bruce o Broch kintry
Daith is the weird we aa maun dree

Oliphant, Garrie, William Soutar,
Laing, Garioch, douce Angus Calder
Mackay Brown, Cruickshank, wry Murray
Daith keeps a goodly company!

Tho sawbeens an physicians strive
Tae cure their patients, nane can rive
Their prey, frae the Derk Angel's grip
Aneth the yird ilk ane maun slip

Fine wirds can jink the Reaper's cleuk
An live as lang's there's prent an buik
Sae, tho the mools are derk an slee.
Daith hauds nae swey ower barderie

3.Daith the Healer
Stanley Robertson tells a traditional traveller's tale of an Old Woman who shut the door on Death. Here, I have turned the story into a song, sung to the tune 'The Wind & the Rain'

Aince an auld cailleach steekit her front yett
Daith, daith, she'll nae let ye inbye
She'd meat an fuel eneuch tae keep her hett
In the cauld kirkyaird she swore she'd niver lie

Winter cam howlin roon aboot the warld
Daith, daith, she'll nae let ye inbye
Roon cauld rig banes her plaidie she has furled
In the cauld kirkyaird she swore she'd niver lie

Syne at her windae, a tinkler lassie chapped
Barfit, she socht a bield tae bide
Tho the sna fell thick the cailleach she had vowed
There's nane wad share her warm fireside

The quine lay doon on the snawy snawy grun
Like tae dee in the cauld blin smore
The auld wife's taen the tinkler lassie in
Till the Spring brocht flooers tae thon lanely door

Come auld wife, wauk oot wi me
Spring's here, the blossom's on the lea
0 na sweet quine I winna step ootbye
Daith lies in wyte fur sic bodies as me

She's taen the auld wife by the han
Heivens flooers are winnerfu tae see
These are the blooms o Paradise
They growe on the howes o Eternity

Auld wife, auld wife, it's are ye blin
Daith's dues nae mortal can deny
Ye Deed the day ye let me in
In the sweet kirkyaird noo ye maun lie

4.Twa Birdies

Abune a dyke a spurgie sang
Grey chikks, grey wyme, grey croon
His thrapple an his briest, war blaik
His beak, bricht yalla-broon

The sonsie quine he wooed wis blate
Dowped on a wheelie bin
He churred he cheeped, he bobbed fu deep
Her maidenheid tae win

He promised her the brawest nest
A spurgie's wife micht wish
A door o ivy, waas o strae
Sweet crocus for a dish

He vowed he'd bring her butterflees
The rarest he cud bring
Tae feed her, gin she'd bit agree
Tae weir his waddin ring

As watter weirs a stane awa
Tae gar him haud his wheesht
She merriet him. An noo there's
Sax new spurgies on the reest.

5. The Scots Diaspora tune: The Deil's Awa wi Exciseman
Dedicated to Billy Kay, author of The Scottish World: A Journey into the Scots Diaspora, Mainstream Publishing,2008

Tae Norroway frae Cairnbulg, tae fjord frae Buchan shore, man
A Bulger sailed tae makk his merk far seal an reindeer roar, man
He sattled yonner, tuik a wife, the years gaed birlin roon, man
An syne wis born Edvard Grieg, the maister o guid tune, man

America is big a braw, some like Andrew Carnegie
Fa'd think that a philanthropist could fill sae deep a coggie?
In Pittsburg toun, this weaver's loon, by eident application
Becam as rich as Croesus, sirs, an gaed awa his fortune

Baith Scot an Yankee lue their sport, a baa tae kick or thump, man
Oor coast'll hae a braa gowf-course, wi thanks tae Donald Trump, man
In Nova Scotia, Cape Breton, oor pipes raise mony's a cantrip
Roon Scarb'ro's Muddy Creeks ye'll hear the Scots revere their heirskip

Aroon Japan there is ae man, as ye wad sune discover
The Scottish Samurai they praise, the chiel caad Thomas Glover
In Nagasaki he did trade, in industry he prospered
An shared his lear, an wisna sweir, tae shakk the hands they offered

Tae Africa sailed Livingstone, wi jungle breets fur neebors
Far frae Blantyre by Zambesi, he screived agin the slavers
An Mary Slessor wisna feared in Calabar tae settle
Tae tell the tribal chiefs o God, an pit them on their mettle

Gin ye cried by the wintry coort, o Peter, Russia's Tsar, man
Ye'd find his dominies war Scots, weel-eesed tae cauld an haar, man
Paul Menzies, Henry Farquharson, baith shared their sense an skills, man
An Robert Erskine he wis there, tae cure the Royal ills, man

The Auld Alliance ower in France, fin warld war two wis ragin
A secret agent in the kirk o Paris, wis assuagin
The plight o Allied servicemen, his name wis Rev. Caskie
The Tartan Pimpernel, he risked his life in mony's a plisky

The Seminole o Florida, the Cree fowk o the Plains, man
Hae mairriet wi the immigrants frae Scotia's hills an glens, man
The Chieftain o the Cherokee, grown auld afore his years, man
Wis Lang John Ross o Heilan bluid, that wauked the Trail o Tears, man

Twa names abune them as staun oot, for luv o liberty, man
Twa poets, Burns an Byron baith, weel laudit ower the sea, man
The Greeks extol the son o Gight, in daith he pruved his wirth, man
While Burns, fa niver left oor shore's, kent roon the Muckle Furth, man

Sae here's tae the diaspora, an tae the ties that bind them
Like ivy-wreath tae kith an kin, an may we ever mind them
Tho ocean wide, it may divide the baimies frae the Mither
We'll raise a glaiss for Scotia's sake, o cheer fur ane anither!

6.A Tribute to Stanley Robertson

Fit did ye learn at yer mither's knee?
Nummers an ABC's?
The traiveller's bairn roon the camp fire rikk
Learned ancient mysteries

Did ye bide in a street in a granite hoose
Wi a shop-bocht clock's sma chime?
The traiveller's hame wis shiftin san
The Sizzens merked his time

Did ye watch the glitzy Hollywid tales
On muckle pictur screens?
The traiveller sang aff the beaten track
O the sorras o Kings an Queens

He learned the history o the lan
Through legend, ballad an crack
Nae frae a schule-buik, tape nor film
Bit frae kinsmen hynie-back

Mair precious than gowd that's easy spent
Bricht as the seraphim
Is the lear that the traiveller kept in his hairt
Treisur sic fowk as him.

7.Hidden Sairs: for John Reid/David Toulmin (1913-1998)

Ae day a loon on a fairm plunked skweel.
Thon day he learned these lessons:
That life wis wersh,
That the makie-on o bairnhood
Wis a fause bield.
That atween hissel an his faither
Lay a gulf as braid's an ocean.

The puppet show he vrocht
Wis a nochtie ferlie,
Whigmaleerie o shadda an paper
That the storm o his faither's rooze
Could blooter wi ae neive.

A loon, fa wad be a writer,
Booed in the peetiless rain
Tae hyew the neeps,
Blawn seed in a lane rig.

He grew, a chiel amang us
In the hard sheenin corn
o the cauld Nor East
An aa the whyles
His hauns spun gowd frae strae

Briered in a roch airt
An ilkie year o warssle a hidden sair
The Clyack Shaif wis his,
Sprung frae a late hairst,
Lang in the growin,
Sweet in the gaitherin in.

8.Scottish Place Names in Canada

Airdrie, Ardrossan, Bonnie Doon
Bon Accord, Calgary, Barhead
Banff, Carstairs, Mount Hector, Clyde
Mintlaw, Mallaig, & Bankhead

Abbotsford, Balfour, Invermere
Craigellachie, Montrose, Fintry
Angusville, Elgin, Elphinstone
Gretna, MacGregor, Carberry

Dalhousie, Drummond, Aberdeen
Lower Kintore & Hamilton
Iona, Melrose, Holyrood
Buchans, Balmoral, Campbellton

Glencoe & Knoydart, fair Loch Broom
Dunvegan, Inverness, Argyle
New Ross, New Glasgow, Finlayson
Macmillan Pass & Melville Isle

Angus & Alloa, Ailsa Craig
Coutts, Aberfeldy, Aberfoyle
Ardbeg & Ardoch, Armadale
Arstrong & Ayr & Campbellville

Badenoch, Baxter, Ballantrae
Bannockburn, Bothwell, Berriedale
Brechin & Bruce, Cairngorm, Cargill
Crombie, Dalmeny, Gillies Hill

Dalrymple, Drummond, Feruslea
Glenburnie, Glencaim, Invermay
Jura, Kilsyth, Kincardine, Laird
Lanark, Lochalsh, MacDonald's Bay

Macdiarmid, Lowther, Leith, MacDuff
MacGillivray's Bridge, Lake Dalrymple
Malcolm & Morven, Lammermoor
Paisley, New Scotland, Nairn, Maxwell

Perth, Rannoch, Renfrew, Scone, Scotch Bush
Speyside, St. Andrews, Tarbert, Tay
Tweed, Breadalbane, Glenfinnan Isle
Lochaber, Thurso, Stornoway

Arran, Balcarres, Cupar, Kyle
Girvan, Glen Ewan, Balgownie
Markinch & Mortlach, Ravenscraig
Orkney, Tiree, Inchkeith, Birsay

9.A Plea fur Mercy

Hae fiver ye tholed a langamachie
Fin 'a fyew wee wirdies' streetch tae a buik?
An niver a mercy seat in sicht
Tae park yer dowp in a quaet neuk?

Oh fur a shears tae snip the threid
O spikk, fin pouer rins tae the heid
O some wee pedant fa's gien free rein
Tae pooshun yer lug an numb yer brain

Gie's the scauld's bridle or mercy seat
Or a crook, tae blooter him aff his feet.


Fin I wis a littlin
Hikers an climmers thocht I wauked alane
An ootlinn amang ma fiers

Dis yer ma ken ye play yersel
Far the linn cowps ower wi a roar?
A ghillie speired, his gun slung ower his airm.

I telt him I wis sib tae the glen
I telt him the burn spak tae me
I telt him the wid wis ma frien

Lyin doon in the heather
I let a hairy oobit crawl ower ma haun
Gulliver, raxxin oot in the sun
A curtain, drapped frae its runners
Sae fu o licht I could daunce on the heid o a preen

11.The Hamecomin o the The Wolf –

As I cam in by Cnocan Dubh the reekin lums war smored
The weemin milkin on the braes, thin ghaists on Beinn a Bhuird
At Coble Croft the cottars' waas war tummlet torques o stane
Auld heroes in their nerra graves war fitenin sticks o bane

The Tree o Gowd by Luibeg wis wizzent tae a stump
The muckle wids I eesed tae prowl war dwinnlet tae a clump
At Carn na Cuimhne, lang I stude, the roch win in my face
Mydin on tales o Druid times, dwined withoot track or trace

In Shetland, wolves war Wulver men. The Pawnee caad us blessed
In mony an airt aroon the warld, a wolf wis caad a guest
For frae the Wolf Star Sirius, my kinsmen trode the trail
Alang the Speerit Path far ghaisties birled like astral hail

Bit I wis born near Invercauld, heich on Creag Choinnich's side
Baith sherp o tooth an wit forbye, I focht tae win a bride
An faithered cubs tae dog the deer, throwe warmth, an Winter's snaa
Till ane by ane, masel the last, Clan Fhionnlaigh slew us aa

Oorie, the glens I eesed tae stalk, a crined, unscented flooer
An I masel, a shadda-shape, a wolf o whiff o stoor


The nicht ma faither wis born
Lichtnin entered the hame like a bricht angel
Doon throw the lum it wheeched
Birsslin the chaumer door on the wye oot.

It wis Winter. The loch had jeeled
Aroon the seggs, the watter like
A keekin-glaiss o milk

Ma faither's rage cud rock the verra Heivens
Havver peace like an aixe
Aabody keepit a calm sooch till it sattled.
The lift wis aywis bluer eftir the storm.

14.The Buik Launch: Tune: Geordie Weir

Weel, ye've written yer buik an ye think it is braw
Yer hopin tae launch it at Wird or Stanza
There's jist the ae blot, an it's nae made o ink
Thon thing cad the critic, fa's faschious tae jink

Fowk speir noo an then fit ye dae for yer wark
Dae ye earn a fyew pence bi the swyte o yer sack?
Ye tell them that barderie rins in yer bluid
An they glower as if ye'd sprootit horns on yer heid

An syne there's the foxes that pad throw the hoose
Leavin fitprents ahin them, queer thochts on the loose
Nae winner some bards droon their sorras in booze
Weir their claes inside oot or are randy as doos

Maist luvers fin spurned takk the thing in their stride
Speed-date or sen aff fur a mail-order bride
Bit yer poet screives ballads o melancholy
Lets his bleedin hairt stoon fur the hale warld tae see

War ye brocht up on breid-an-air, watter an kicks?
Write confessional poetry an gie it big licks
Makk ilkie wee sonnet as derk as a bruise
An declaim like a Heilanman weirin ticht trews

Here's advice tae puir craturs fas thochts rin on rhyme
Like Big Ben on the oor ye are programmed tae chime
Tae the sports car, the pent hoose, the fame, bid adieu
Gyang hire ye a garret an sign on the Broo.

15. Burns comes tae Burnheid o Blairs for Sandy & Doreen Petrie. Mrs. Petrie is a descendent of the North East Burness family, from which the poet himself was descended.

`The 250th anniversary of the birth of Robert Burns has been celebrated on a global scale and as it should be - with dancing, singing, laughter and of course the odd dram.' Alex Salmond, First Minister

Wi pheasant feather in its dowp
Its hochs wi tartan ribbons happed
The haggis, ferried frae the hoose
Is served wi neeps an tatties, chapped

The stove inbye the sheddie's primed
Cheers, set like sardines in a tin
Bit frienships like an open pooch
Wi luck, ye'll ay fit ae mair in

A pre-recordit quine tries hard
Frae a wee box, tae cherm the lug
Bit music, live frae fiddler bow's
The thing that gars oor hairt-strings rug

Three generations host the nicht
A grandson licks a trifle speen
Reid-chikkit lad, the caunle-lowe
Sets starlicht glimmrin in his een

The auld cock craws, the young ane learns
As tis wi birds, tae tis wi bairns
The littlin's lappit roon wi sang
0 love, o loss, o man's consarns

Sae ilkie virgin century
Encounters Burns. Like scattered corn
His thochts, his loves, his hopes, his dreams
Brier in the briests o fowk unborn

Abeen, a wintry meen keeks doon
On ither airts, an ither climes
Nae ither kintra claims a bard
Tae be the spokesman o fowk's minds
Whaur, as at Burnheid o Blairs
Burns stauns aside us, kens oor cares.

16.The Curlin Puil

By a puil hard jeeled wi ice,
On a howe in the hoch o Craig Coilleich
I watched the sunlicht dee.

Gloamin sat at the elbuck o the wid.
On the far side o the brig,
Rikk raise frae the clachan's lums
A semaphore o cloud.

The wud things o the knowe cheepit an flichtered
Shaddas streeched like hoodies midnicht wings
Slaw an siccar, hippit an weariet, the meen raise in the lift.

17.Death Fugue: by Paul Celan. Here, owersett into Scots

Blaik milk o daybrakk we drink it doon at gloamin
we drink it at noon in the mornin we drink it at nicht
we drink it an drink it
we howk the mools in the wins far ane lies unkistit
A chiel bides in the hoose he plays wi the snakes he screives
he screives fin gloamin faas tae Germany yer gowden hair Maggie
he screives it an steps ootbye an the starnies are skinklin
he fussles his pack oot
he fussles his Jews oot in yird has them howk for a grave
he gars us strikk up for the daunce

Blaik milk o daybrakk we drink ye at nicht
we drink ye in the mornin at noon we drink ye at gloamin
we drink an we drink ye
A chiel bides in the hoose he plays wi the snakes he screives
he screives fin gloam faas tae Germany yer gowden hair Maggie
yer hair o aisse Sulamith we howk the mools
in the wins far ane lies unkistit

He cries oot howk deeper inno the yird aabody ye ithers sing noo an play
he rugs at the iron in his belt he wyves it his een are blue
howk deeper ye chiels wi yer spads ye ithers play on for the daunce

Blaik milk o daybrakk we drink ye at nicht
we drink ye at noon in the mornin we drink ye at gloamin
we drink an we drink ye
a chiel bides in the hoose yer gowden hair Maggie
yer hair o aisse Sulamith he plays wi the snakes
He cries oot mair sweetly play daith daith is a maister frae Germany
he cries oot mair derkly noo straik yer strings
syne as rikk ye'll rise inno air
syne a grave ye'll hae in the clouds far ane lies unkistit

Blaik milk o daybrakk we drink ye at nicht
we drink ye at noon daith is a maister frae Germany
we drink ye at sundoon an in the mornin we drink an we drink ye
daith is a maister frae Germany his een are blue
he strikks ye wi leaden bullets his aim is true
a chiel bides in the hoose yer gowden hair Maggie
he sets his pack ontae us he gies us a grave in the air
He plays wi the snakes an dwaums daith is a maister frae Germany
your gowden hair Maggie
yer hair o aisse Shulamith

18.Peace by Thich Nhat Hanh: Owersett here into Scots

They waukened me this mornin
tae tell me ma brither had been killt in battle.
Yet in the gairden, ootraxxin dyewy petals,
a new rose briers on the buss.
An I am leevin, can yet breathe the smell o roses an middens,
ett, pray, an sleep.
Bit fan can I brakk ma lang seelence?
Fan can I spikk the unspukken wirds that smore me?

From: The Cry of Vietnam
Unicorn Press, Santa Barbara, CA,1968, p.22

19.Danse Macabre —

Fowk hae daunced since the stert o time
Kick yer heels tae the piper's blaa
Fiddle's bowin is blythe an braw
The Danse Macabre will catch ye aa

Silkies slidder ower Shetlan shores
Solans reel ower Foula's snaa
Strip the Willow Orcadian-kind
The Danse Macabre will catch ye aa

Ilkie hurricane needs a haven
Music's bield is a wattergaw
Psalm an shanty, lament an paeon
The Danse Macabre will catch ye aa

Carol, madrigal, stinch precentor
Galliard, troubadour, Ars Nova
Maypole, Morrisman, hornpipe jig,
The Danse Macabre will catch ye aa

Dashin White Sergeant, Echtsome Reel
The Fleein Scotsman aroon the haa
Yiddish, Irish, Baroque or Pole
The Danse Macabre will catch ye aa

Michty Emperor, sonsie quine
Aathin growes tae its ain doonfaa
Littlin rowed in its kirkyaird cloots
The Danse Macabre will catch ye aa

20.The Shuffle Monster

There's a Muckle Shuffle Monster fleein roon the Milky Way
His een are like twa bleezin lumps o coal
His lugs are lang an pynty. He chaws asteroids like crisps
An he bides doon at the foon o a Black Hole

His best frien is a Martian, wi a Scorpion for a pet
They explore the galaxies on Summer nichts
The Martian's humfy-backit an the Shuffle Monster's green
An the Scorpion's een are like twa traffic lichts

They lowp frae Mars tae Jupiter on Pegasus the shelt
(Their space umbrella stops a meteor shooer)
Ye micht catch a glimpse bi meenlicht o the Shuffle Monster's kilt
If he isna sailin through some astral stoor

The Universe is feary, wi Reid Giants an Fite Dwarfs
Fu o Heivenly dugs an bears made ooto stars
Bit the Shuffle Monster's gallus an he disna easy fleg
He's the winner o a umpteen Galactic wars

And the Martian has a's a really special pouer
Wi ae luik he can shrink aathin wee as piz
Bit he's really feart o Earthlins, sae ye needna hide an cooer
As he wheechs alang the Heivens wi a fizz

21.The Campus Coo

There's a coo on the campus
She's haein a luik
At a braw new production
A Readin Bus buik!

She'd like ye tae jyne her
The buik is at King's
There's poems aboot spacemen
An midgies wi stings
Ye'll meet dinosaurs, forkietails,
Cats on a waa
The wird on the street is
It's Nae Bad Ava!

22. Seeventeen Bairn Rhymes


Far's Maisie Finlay?
Aff wi a hoast
Far's Sunita Ranjeev?
Chokit on her toast
Far's Nimi Munzah
His face is fu o plooks
Far's Abdul Sharnam
Paiddlin wi the dyeuks!

Wee Sister

I hae a wee sister, she burst ma fitba
I wish the tooth fairy wid takk her awa
She bust ma fitbaa an she blamed it on me
I wish that a monster wad ett her fur tea!

Big Brither

My brither pits wirms in ma bath tub
My brither pits slugs doon ma back
Ae day tae the recyclin centre
Ma brither I'd willinly tak

An maybe, instead o a brither
They'd recycle him as a bike
I'd dae wheelies on him in the gairden
Noo thon is brither I'd like!

Baby Blues

I dinna wint a baby.
I'd rather hae a baa
A tortoise or a rubbit.
Dinna hae a baby, ma.
Hae a budgie or a goldfish.
Baby's makk an affa noise
Willy Duthie's got a baby
an it pinches as his toys!


The fowk next door keep dugs that gurr
A spittin cat wi taiglet fur
An auld wrecked car in the backie there
An a muckle bogie aneth the stair!

The Rubbits' Prayer

Please gie us greens for denner!
We think that greens are braw!
Wi salad for oor brakkfaist
An celery tae chaw!

Let us hae sprouts an parsley,
Kail, piz, an rinner beans
An dinna skimp on lettuce,
Us rubbits luv oor greens!

Flapper the Whale

Fin Flapper the whale sets aff for school
He wallops his tail an blaws his tap
He staps his bag wi crisps an juice
An aff he sweems wi a flappety flap!

Mister Minger

Mister Minger's got leathery skin,
A baldie heid an a stibbly chin
He etts fajitas an chaws the plate
An I think Mister Minger's great!

Sancastle RIP

I like tae watch the boaties
An play alang the shore
I like tae look for partans
An watch the seagulls soar

I like tae bigg sancastles.
I'm a cheery kinda lad
I've jilt ae teenie problem..
Far did I beery dad?


I tint ma voice in bed last nicht.
I think it's wi the stars
I think it's singin lullabies
Tae Jupiter an Mars!


The measles cam tae veesit.
I'm happit, heid an tail
There's ten on my bihoochie..
Nae winner I look pale!

I feel jist like cheetah.
My skin is fu o spots
Bit fin I'm really scunnered,
I jist jyne up the dots!

Daith o a Goldfish

Slowly an sadly we laid her doon.
We rubbit her nose in butter
We pit her in a sardine tin
An floatit her doon the gutter

Bonnie Mary o Argyle

Bonnie Mary o Argyle,
Sittin stride-legs ower a stile
Like a tattie on the bile,
Fa's the lad that gars ye smile?

The Cauliflooer

I wish I wis a cauliflooer.
I wadna wash my lugs
I'd be as lazy as I liked
An blether wi the bugs


Billy's a scunner, he spits an he rages
I've seen nicer tigers in zoos an in cages
He farts an he rifts, he'll nae dae fit he's telt
Bit ye'll hae tae excuse him, for Billy's a shelt!

Granny's Bairn

I'm gaun tae ma grunny the morn.
She'll caa me her favourite quine
I'll hae sweeties faniver I wint them,
wi jeely, an aathin that's fine
Bit I'll jist bide a day an a denner..
I'd niver laist oot for a wikk
Atween jeelies, an cookies an puddens,
Bi the time I ging hame I'll be seek!

Easter Eggs

Mhairi got a hennie's egg
Rory's egg wis chocolate
Ian got a widden ane
Wi pentit spots upon it
Pieter got a jeely egg
Wi sugar at the core
Evie's egg wis green an big
It hatched a dinosaur!

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, December 10, 2013

Poem Edited: Tuesday, December 10, 2013

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