They’re a canny old people, the Scotch,
To get lassies to dance, while they watch,
And with nae hint of guilt,
Watch the swirl of the kilt,
For a glimpse of a bushy young crotch!
Tag: Scottish limerick
Under the kilt
Poor wee delicate Angus Dunbarton
On cold morns was never a spartan:
The rest of the clan
Thought him less than a man,
To wear underwear under the tartan!
Laird of the ring
Every male of some Scottish clans
Wears a little brass ring through his glans,
And conceals thereby,
By a string down his thigh,
His life savings, in little tin cans.
Highland games
A young Scotch lass eyed off her new neighbour;
Big, brawny from manual labour.
Her hands round his hilt,
From the tilt of his kilt,
Would, by God, be like tossing the caber!
In a Scottish glen
Her smock slashed by the dirk of the laird,
Naked, flushed, she defiantly stared;
For the pride of her clan,
She would best any man,
In a fight or a fuck, if he dared!
Highland fling
Scottish ways, to some folk, may seem foreign;
A Scottish lass, say, for a florin,
If asked the right way,
Wouldn’t likely say nae
To a taste of what’s under the sporran!