There has been a comment about P4/5’s poem. They said they would like to hear our poem. This is our poem.

                                                     First catch your Haggis

Through the heather through the glen, go the highland hunting men. Wrapped warm in kilts gainst winter cold, only the bravest and the bold. For who knows where the haggis hides, amids these frozen mountain sides. In the loch with neeps and tatties, or lurking with the sheep and ratties. They seak him here they seak him there, but none can find the haggis lair. This cheiften of the pudding race, is lying low without a trace.