Here's Alison: The Brothers Ross
Alison Ross writes a poem about the Ross brothers - and a very special brand of whisky.
The Brothers Ross all sat around
Inside the Pearly Gates.
They were often seen, just sitting there
Having some great debates!
But today they seemed a bit perturbed
As James with genuine sorrow,
Said "Sam’s on his way, we can’t delay,
He’ll be here sometime tomorrow!"
Now Sam he was the third lad born,
Out of the brothers Five,
And he’d outlived the rest of them,
But at 92 he’d died…
They’d made a pact years before,
That the last of them to wilt,
Would sneak a bottle of whisky in,
If he had to hide it ‘neath his kilt!
"Now," said James "we’ll need a plan
St Andrew must not know…
You’ll have to get your pipes out Bill,
And be all ready to blow."
The thought of what Sam would bring,
Revived Bill’s musical urges,
And right across the heavens then,
He played those Scottish dirges.
Then Sam arrived, and stood outside…
While St Andrew checked his worth,
He asked Sam a ton of questions
About his life on earth!
At last he was invited in,
While Bill’s pipes began to blow,
And about the whisky 'neath his kilt
St Andrew didn’t know!
That evening from that whisky bottle
Those Rosses drank their fill,
And toasted one another…Baby Gordon,
James, Jack, Sam and Bill.
They even had a toast or two
For St Andrew at the gate,
But when he later found them there
Sam said, "You are too late!
There’s nothing left we drank the lot."
St Andrew cursed the Rosses
"I’ll make you pay for this sad day,
I’m off to tell the Bosses."
The Good Lord heard St Andrew’s tale,
"They really need a lesson,
I’ll take their sense of taste away,
It’s sure to be a blessing!"
The Brothers Ross are working now
They no longer drink their fill
Although they make a Heavenly Whisky
In St Andrews’ still!
And the Whisky that they make
Soothes all Heaven's thirst…
And the Ross’s all recall that day.
St Andrew had them cursed!
