Tae a Pit Moose

by Paul Malgrati

Come here, moosie, fine wee beastie,
Dinnae ye fash, A’m nae trauchle!
Let me gie this rucksack a shoogle 
An fin ye some tasty crummies.
 
By day ye mak the lassies feart
But ye’re nae bather here doon the pit,
Raither the opposite: fur I luve ye tae bits!
Bony moosie, blithe o ma hert!
 
Ye leal fere o pit-blin miners
Wha need but hear ye knack an birl,
Deep in the mirk, yer peerie beamer
Minds them o the chitterin birds!
 
I ken that whiles, ye wee rascal, 
Ye dae oor nut richt in,
In oor bit pieces ye mak big holes-
Ach, but ye tae need feedin!
 
An A ken tae, gin ye shuid leuk
Ower yonder, in the staibills,
There’s a fair chance ye micht get killed
Slauchtert atween the catties’ cleuks.

An A ken that in times o strife
When there’s nae trace o callant hewers,
When there’s nae breid, ye’ll weed awa 
Ye that’s sae fu o life! 
 
A seen ye, oor fecht ower,
Hou muckle ye dreed an skrinkit
Sae peerie, sae skinnymalink,
And whiles yer legs up in the air. 
 
But let’s leave aff sic dreary tawkin
There’s plenty breid an crowdie tae,
We’ll greet when it’s time fur greetin,
Come an enjoy yer feast the day! 
 
Come here, moosie, fine wee beastie,
Dinnae ye fash, A’m nae trauchle!
Let me gie this rucksack a shoogle 
An find ye some tasty crummies.