She's My Lass Poem by Randy McClave

She told me that she was my "Lass"
Spoke with confidence and a little sass,
Her belief she then did assert
As she wore her short tartan skirt.
She then walked about me in her kilt
I held onto pride and honor and no guilt,
Of course she was beautiful and unmarried
With a thistle in her hair, she also carried.
She began to become a little brassy
As she exclaimed to all that she was my Lassie,
While wearing her tartan dress
To all, especially me she did impress.
Again she made her boasting claim
And if I denied her, only myself could I blame,
As she drank some hooch in a glass
Then with a kiss she confirmed, she was my lass.

Randy L. McClave