Ma mate Bazza

He scuttles here, he scuttles there, beneath the fridge, beneath the chair

His little legs no time for rest, his scratching on the tiles’ a pest,

From left and right he makes his claim, each bit of floor to cross his aim

He stops and checks for sign of foes, then off again he tos and fros

 

“This space is mine, no welcome’s here”, wae wee man’s guts, nae sign o’ fear,

He checks the gap beneath the door, and starts a final sweep one more.

Beneath the bin, the bookshelves too, from living room to shower and loo

No height too high, no depth too low, avoiding every stamp and blow!

 

I sit and watch, reprieved him now, cos after all we must allow

With shape that though we disagree, was made by God for all to see

A beastie till I wandered in, was lord of all that lay within

This room where he played out his life, and all I’d brought unwelcome strife.

 

It’s just that like the keystone cops, he runs and runs and never stops,

It’s round and round like Benny Hill, no time to lose, no time to kill

No time for sleep, no pain no gain, every inch is his domain

Perhaps he’s got his sights set on the ugly bug triathalon!

 

We’re settled now, in fact we’re mates, we stay in nights nae time for dates

A laugh an’ joke, each wae oor dreams, like two big kids frae different schemes,

Bows an’arras, cowboys tae, building’ dens tae while away,

The sunny days, play hide an’ seek, try an’dae the biggest keek.

 

Alas alack, for time does fly and all things change although we try

To keep a hold on youth and past, when we were captains o’ the mast

So when the day came to depart, my mate was hiding, broken heart?

I wiped a tear and dimmed the light, a sudden crunch, …..oh Bazza!!!!… Shite!


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