Burns, Rabbie Burns *wink*

Photo credit: Wikipedia

For those who noticed the Q&A wasn’t up yesterday, I apologize. I caught the plague that’s currently going around at my office and I was down for the count. So, we’re one day late in celebrating Scotland’s most loved poet Robbie (or as they say in Scottytown Rabbie) Burns’ birthday.

And because it’s the day after I’ll leave you with a lovely poem instead of the planned Q&A, because this my friends, is so much better. Enjoy the Robbie love.

I Love My Jean.
Of a’ the airts the wind can blaw,
I dearly like the west,
For there the bony Lassie lives,
The Lassie I lo’e best;
There’s wild-woods grow, and rivers row,
And mony a hill between;
But day and night my fancy’s flight
Is ever wi’ my Jean.
I see her in the dewy flowers, 
I see her sweet and fair;
I hear her in the tunefu’ birds, 
I hear her charm the air:
There’s not a bony flower, that springs
By fountain, shaw, or green,
There’s not a bony bird that sings,
But minds me o’ my Jean. 
– Robert Burns
(January 25, 1759 – July 21, 1796)

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