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Poems by Bob Beveridge

If you should chance on the Sherrifmuir in November
You may be forgiven for thinking you've stepped back in time
For there you'll see Les Ecossais Royeaux, Na Fir Dileas, The Maccraes  and more
In all their finery as they wait on their Prince.
The radio crackles, Jimmy shouts 'He's just left, get them lined up'
The Bull's Merc sweeps into the car park, passed the waiting faces
Fairfield steps forward and out steps the Prince and the Earl O' Marr
They greet a few kent faces Bob B, Rab.J, Bobby L,Brendon and Tony.P
All follow inside the inn to catch up with the news
In darkness clansmen fall in, flags unfurl, torches burst into flame
The pipes sound in the chill night air as the march winds its way to the cairn
We say a prayer, lay a wreath, make a speech drink a toast and remember........
Now on the bus! The Sword awaits, the revelries begin
The foods brought out and strong drink is in full flow
Jaggy Thistle takes the stage and music fills the air, ' Were Yi At The Sherrifmuir......'
The talk goes on throughout the night and on without a care
Midnight below the Abbey Craig, the bonfire crackles into life
Soup and stovies fill our guts, music fills our heads
Terry climbs the Craig and in the moonlight shouts 'Fear God Honour the King'.
People scared to join us stand and wonder why? 
But we don't bite!!
So don't just stand wonder or pass and not think why
Come and ask! Come and join!
But most of all Please remember.

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