Winner of the unpublished poets section of the Dunedin UNESCO Robert Burns Poetry Competition 2020

To Burns: For a’ that and all that, the ploughman’s bard

Before we drag his statue down, or add a codicil or two,
for all of them that read or write, or ponder freedom’s measly brew,
upon some truths he did indite; let’s grant to him his due.
I bring to mind what’s long been known,
imperfect though that he’s been shown, he’s the ploughman’s bard for a’ that.

There’s few would have the gall to say that freedom goes its merry way,
when clearly it has gone astray.
Whilst some can live without a care, beleaguered peoples everywhere
will glean for each and every seed, if they are like to get a feed,
while others flee unending wars to land upon forbidding shores.
His voice of sense and worth does draw it real.
The bard’s the man for all that.

Mother Nature, heaven knows, is reeling under mankind’s blows,
as plants and creatures, great and small, fall within our deadly thrall.
It’s also very plain to see, that much that we can hope to do is governed by our shade and hue.
Meanwhile, birkies and coofs without a clue are wont to tell us what is true,
and just when things could not seem worse, a president unschooled in verse
will strut and bluster through the night, and millions seem to think he’s right.
But wait, let’s laugh at that sad crew, as Burns himself would surely do,
the bard’s a man for a’ that.

He spoke of auld acquaintance brought to mind, and of the love that holds us dear,
of rank that blights and tears apart, of poor folk and of honest toil, of men and women of the soil,
the simple truths of mice and men, and of their tears and hopes and fears.
His words are there to hold us near and all his works to help us see
that liberty for all must be, and ne’er be loosed from justice, truth, fraternity.
He’s the ploughman’s bard for all that.