Nikita
John McGregor
Mae dochter’s ca’ed Nikita
An’ she’s nearly thrie yier auld.
She’s naw as quet as mae sinn John —
She can quarely barge an’ scoul.
She luks jist lake a beauty queen,
Wi’ a smile that wud melt tha sna.
She’s a bonny lass; she’s bricht an’ fair,
An’ weel spoilt bae her ma an’ da.
She gets neer a’ she axes fur,
Jist wi’ a smile an that luk
That means ‘A’ll luv ye fur iver —
An’ a ken I’m pushin’ mae luck’.
She’s special tae mae, she’s mae wee doat,
Mair precious nor fortune nor wealth.
A tell her niver tae worry
As lang as she’s blest wi’ guid health.
She kens that her an’ her brither
Will aye bae mae wurl, thir’s nae doot;
An whuniver the motor is stairted
The’r set fur oot an’ aboot.
Sae whitiver time A still hae left
Tae grace this gret big wurl,
Mae weans wull cum afore a’ else —
Mae wee sinn an’ daddy’s girl.
February 2007
Next: Young Luive
Previous: Ten Fit Ta'
Contents: Ullans: The Magazine for Ulster-Scots, Nummer 11 Ware 2010
