Eclipse …

Where’s yon orb A spoke aboot?

Covered oer wie tufts o fluff

A had pit oot my shorts and polo

Ach, A’ve aboot had enough

It’s nae surprise

Ma spirits rise

The minute A see its face,

But it never takes oer long

Fir muckle clouds tae take its place

Heatwaves forecast, then nowt,

Eclipes Ellispsis is about.

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