Robert Burns meets Bigfoot
See what can happen?
THE BEST LAID PLANS O’ MEN AND TULPAS
Now here’s a tale, of men and mice
(Though which is which I leave to you)
Whose aliases must suffice
(And sadly must their motives too).
It happened one cold winter’s night
When snow lay thick upon the hills,
And all is quiet around the stills.
But not that night! Filled full of ale
A solitary figure staggered
Home upon his lonesome trail,
His step unsteady, features haggard.
The 25th, the 25th,
The time for wild celebration,
A time abandoned and outwith
Man’s cogniscence of preservation.
Three miles it was to house and home,
A trekking feat, a mighty job,
And chance encounters with his own
Would not deter our hero, Rob.
Avoiding man, avoiding house,
Rob strode out like a sobered Bacchus,
Ignoring every pleading mouse
And stepping over each prone haggis.
And then…from out the woods appeared
A ghastly figure long of gait
In front of him, so fell! so weird!
Form shimmering in a parlous state.
Rob stopped in time and stumbled back,
And from a distance cried aloud,
“Tak what ye will! Alas! Alack!
But just don’t hurt me, I’m no’ proud!”
But there it posed and there it stood,
Responding not, its body still,
Hirsute and reeking of the wood,
Considering Rob (as most folks will).
Unnerved, unsure of what to do,
Rob panicked & withdrew his flask
And thrust it out, as you would do,
And cried “You only had to ask!”
Big hairy creatures of the wood
Are not seen as conventional.
As paw grabbed flask (as any would)
The beast went trans-dimensional.
Our hero Rob, quick as a flash,
Dived through the portal, reappeared
With burning hair & clothes (& flask)
Proclaiming “NOTHING steals my beer!”
(The rest is tale & just conjecture,
Myths debunked, no longer cogent,
Rob’s encounter now a lecture
Filled with references to rodents.)
Yet be assured, I heard it tell,
That Rob knew this, and knew it well….
‘The best laid plans o’ men and Tulpas
Gang aft agley wi’ mea culpas!”