This morning I am much displeased:
our lockdown civil servants’ eased.
By-the-loch I tread-in human shit.
So that heralds-in the end of this.
The Highlands is filling-up with scammers
and litter louts and wild campers.
Our northern paradise disordered:
apparently, we don’t have a border.
So now and here these poems must end.
The Light commandeth: do not offend!
Being Highland I must my hand extend.
Every stranger is yet my friend.
One final cautious word to you
(and scientists say this much is true):
covid nineteen’s in the poo
Adieu. Adieu. Adieu.