A EULOGIUM TO ROBERT BURNS

A scot with fame

All letter has his name

Ere sundry winters

Verism was everyplace

And his scribing of nature

Sought summit to my praise

He the sun of poiesis

Had the nature hum

By his art to nurture

Many a heart he won

In the land of flowerets

A floral luve was sung

To the last of his picture

A portrait on wall hung

©LIL ARCHA