This greeting’s no’ my usual Habbie

But happy birthday dearest Rabbie;

Your presence as oor national Bard

Will be oor ultimate reward:

The date, has finally been set

But dinnae fear or dinnae fret,

This great event is what we offer;

Indeed! This is a special supper,

It culminates this grand affair

Five-hundred years o’ Maybole flair.

Wi’ your permission my poet frien’

Let’s meet upon the Station Green,

We’ll glorify Auld Maybole’s wealth

An’ raise a glass tae cheer her health,

The thocht o’t pats me in a swither

An’ binds us a’ tae ane anither.

This bonnie toun has broad appeal

Its first five-hundred it’s done weel,

The next five-hundred wha’s tae ken

They’ll still be doubts noo an’ again,

An’ as the moderns raise their voice

She’ll cradle them an’ they’ll rejoice;

Far reaching are her secret dells

An’ magic are her ancient spells.

What sae you then, we tak a daun’er?

An’ raise oor voices an’ oor banner;

We’ll hae a walk tae Cultezeoun

An’ bide beneath auld Peden’s Crown

Perhaps we’ll sprackle up yon brae

An’ greet Doon valley’s wild array.

Let’s view Baltersan as we pause,

An’ praise Crossraguel for her cause;

We’ll spy the years amid the dawn

An’ view what ancients looked upon.

Then in the shadow o’ Mochrum Hill

We’ll reminisce, wi’ nae ill will!

It’s clearly been a wheen of year,

Syne you hae reveled in this sphere;

Let’s walk the vennels high an’ low

An’ see wha rallies as we go?

We micht as weel delight in folk

Wha relish life an’ daily yoke.

We’ll hear their crack an’ gie a listen

An’ that perhaps is a’ we’re missin’;

Let’s relish every hoose an’ ha’

For likely soon we’ll gang awa’,

But they’ll be here tae stoke the fire

An’ haud Maybole tae its desire!

A truly ancient High Street flourish

Remains the center o’ this parish;

Its entrance hauds the Castle gate

Its grandeur’s spent but no’ its fate,

There’s history hid within its towers

An’ lovers sealed within its bowers.

Its Toun Hall is a classic sight

It minds me o’ my youthful plight,

Whaur as a hapless youth discarded

Somehow I kent I’d be rewarded.

This walk thro’ toun I did enjoy,

But there is business tae employee;

So please! Accept this invitation

Its only plea — anticipation:

Dear friens an’ revelers, ane an’ a’

The Bard has sworn tae gie a ca’;

We’ll venerate baith poem an’ sang

An’ who o’ us will no’ be thrang?

So, wi’ this vote an’ confirmation

Let’s raise oor glass in jubilation

An’ as the chosen date draws near

Nae need tae worry or tae fear;

There is nae fairer Bard than he,

There is nae better cause or plea

An’ on the appointed day at dawn

Let’s a’ meet on the Station lawn,

Tae ponder present, past an’ future

An’ elevate the auld toun’s stature.

While some may stand an’ ithers fa’

The Carrick’s pride is shared by a’;

We’ll meet on this historic day

An’ ca’ the crack afore we stray.

Let’s clasp a memory tae oor breast

An’ keep in mind, we’re truly blest;

Let’s drink a toast in joy, not sorrow

Remembering life, we only borrow.

Noo every word is braidly etched,

This lang effusion seems far-fetched,

But on this page in Lallan rhyme,

It’s still a dream way past its prime.

But as for Maybole’s celebration

We’ll cherish Rab’s participation;

So, birthday wishes frae ane and a’

An’ in the meantime, tweet or ca’:

William Davidson         January 10, 2017   |        Maybole’s 500th. Anniversary Supper