It was the Pittenweem Fishing Festival
A chain o ladies in bunting would link the towns:
The fishing boats would grace the Firth of Forth
A line o trawlers and ithers fae Ainster tae Pittenweem.
On the bow o the lead lady
Heidin oot as the Isle o May looked on
Ma faither piping Highland Mary or Scotland the Brave
White palmed applause ablow fae a douce* watter;
Nae lik the savagery we kent in December or January.
Drinking lik Vikings aw wid enjoy whatever weather
The gods gave and even the grey seals took solace
As the water and land became one.
*Douce watter-soft/calm water.