The Beard: Callander Bookshop

`I must set fire to my beard today' The beekeeper's husband said And the blue tits told the chaffinches And the chaffinches upped and fled By the pool the tattling frog-lings Fearing a conflagration Dived in their emerald leggings In goose bump consternation The beekeeper's husband's tawny beard Is thick as Jericho's walls A herd of bison could shelter there It's as long's Niagara Falls This remarkable outcrop of Highland Hair As springy's a trampoline Would burn so bright, 'twould be seen at night From Rome to Pittenweem But the wise old bees were unconcerned For there's often smoke without fire `Such a wonderful beard' their queen declared Could be lent out for hire, To a Russian Tsar or an oil Emir To impress the noxious throng Or laid as a living carpet, for a saint to walk along.' From Callander to Angola, the fame of the beard has spread It's said that a Dutch explorer was found in its depths half dead Bald chinned bandits from Chile, pirates from Cannes to Calais Fierce Afghans wearing turbans have bid for it on e-bay A radar seeking survey, the following contents found The Marie Celeste. A baker's dozen The Duke of Wellington's second cousin A tribe of hitherto unknown Celts A Chinese dragon. Lochgelly belts And much much more to amaze and astound And a branch of the London underground But a conservation order Means the beard must remain unlit By Royal proclamation May the sun not set on it!