Annually with ceremony, yet always well devoured
This lining of mush and grain makes a nation proud
Those south of the border approach this test with reserve
The first taste, stiff upper lip, steeling their nerves
For those in the know, often accompanied with tatties and neeps
A creamy sauce with Glayva surrounding the bland coloured heaps
Flavours creep forth as they did when a child
They laugh at those gullible to think they breed in the wild.
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