My wee Rocky Rockstar,
Loves a wander up the Braes
Like me, his favourite time
Is long, warm summer days.
He bounds through the grass
With a smile upon his face
Reminding me, it’s in the little things,
That we find our grace.
Rocky Rooster, I whistle,
A cockle-doodle style noise,
Nothing makes him as happy
As the sound of my voice.
We wander on the hills,
Above this town of ours,
Traipsing in Tannahill’s trails
We pass away the hours.
An underwater castle,
Little bridges for the trolls,
Just a few of the sights we see
When we’re on a stroll.
Stopping to appreciate the beauty
When we see the butterflies dance,
whispering through the trees
The breeze puts me in a trance.
“Rocky Roo, where are you?” I call
As he comes bounding out the grass,
Before another muddy hill,
Puts me on my ass!
Do the ears hear? I wonder
As I count them on the trees,
When the sight of scarlet elf cups,
Brings me to my knees.
The berries on the brambles,
The bunnies bounding up the hills,
No internet for a while
But the connection is pure brill.
I’ve wandered through the landscape,
And sometimes back in time,
With my wee fluffy companion,
I’m so glad that he is mine.
Happy birthday Mr. Paisley,
You’ve earned your Pedigree
A “Proud Boy of the Braes”
Like your dad nick-named Iggy,
Rock on ma wee Rocky,
You don’t even need a guitar,
You, my wee treasure
Will always be a star 
Writing for Freedom 