The Ballad of Leslie The Good

The Ballad of Leslie the Good....

Written for a Scottish Celebration....
(reworked from the famous old ballad which has long since disappeared - another dig at the English, a favourite pastime of the writer who has never quite got over the Highland Clearances)
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'Tis a tale told in many lands,
And one that no doubt should
Be told for many a year to come;
‘Tis the ballad of Leslie the Good
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From her southern land she ranged afar
Determined that she should
Search far and wide and high and low
To find the famed black pud.
.. ..
For 'twas a noble quest indeed
And like Sir Lancelot
She'd brave all dangers dire and dread
Til the perfect pud she got.
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Then ....England.... - 'twas a savage place....
Of moor and wild wood....
And not a living soul knew how....
To make the famed black pud....
.. ..
They’d rule the world, invented games....
At which they were no good;....
But soggy chips and mushy peas....
Were all they understood....
.. ..
So the good folk prayed for a champion....
For a gallant, brave who would....
Undertake the quest, to find the best ;....
That legendary pud....
.. ..
The ..Queens.. men searched across the land....
And asked if any would....
Undertake this most important quest....
And stepped forth Leslie the Good....


Oh the townsfolk cheered and bashed the heads....
(Of) rival football fans they found....
Quaffed many a beer with a mighty cheer....
For their hero northward bound....
.. ..
She roamed far forth through highland glen....
In the land of the purple heather....
Found shelter there with those rugged men....
In their crofts out of the weather....
.. ..
From John O’Graoats to ..Gretna Green......
Her reputation spread....
For she’d warm the cockle o’many a heart....
And many a highland bed....
.. ..
Oh the laddies and the lassies....
Were fond of Leslie the Good....
For she’d quaff the odd wee dram or two....
And sample their famed black pud....
.. ..
She’d often ask for the recipe....
Of that legendary dish....
But the Scots wer e awfy canny folk....
And wouldny gie her wish....
.. ..
Oh how she missd her native land....
In her heart she heard it call....
She missed its trees and its mushy peas....
And the weekly weekend brawl....
.. ..
With heavy heart she bid adieu....
her many highland friends....
And with a final swig of the local brew....
Farewelled those highland glens....
.. ..
The yeomen and the yeoladies....
They lined the steets to cheer....
And now upon the podium....
Told them what they would hear....
.. ..
“I’ve watched them make their prized black pud....
And if mem’ry serves me well....
‘Twould be easy to do just the same”....
Twas this that she did tell.....
The rest is history and she,....
With her partner Godfrey Gooding....
Found fame and fortune when she did....
Invent the Yorkshire Pudding.....