Sir Paul

A curse on your Isle

Of lochs and cliffs

Outlander remains

My shameful fantasy

~

Though I would

Touch the rock

For a ride through time

To highlanders I’d flee

~

Mock me rightly

As you ought

Smelly, foul and rude

Revealed, he’d truly be

~

No kilts in your closet

Saved from my folly

Yet you are adored

By this convivial tree

~

Bright blue and white

Loose leaf notes

Origami squares

Folded so carefully

~

Covertly handed off

Passed between friends

In childish moments

Brings joyous, giddy glee

~

Our tin can telephone

Emptied beans, nylon cord

Loud and clear it rings

Across the Atlantic sea

.

.

*Though terrible with rhymes, it was still fun to try 😂

Inspired by our jolly back and forth with my laddie Paul!