The tartan that rode high on his hips
made the milk maidens get cream
and the hogs that disagreed
were made into compost
for the farmers seeds

He danced a merry fit
then behind a bush
had a ***, when he'd found out
she was a *****
with a mother of teeth and spite

His dance became an echo
of the suede love he had for her
and her heart did rot
it rotted as a peach would
at the call of winters song

By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris