Our Grangemouth Lass

She strides
Carn na Caim
As if she
Was at hame

And on the
Ptarmigan Ridge
As if running
From a midge

No Munro bagger
Can surpass
Our very own
Grangemouth lass

An enormous pack
To slow her down
Doesn’t even
Make her frown

Corbets
Mere stepping stones
Munroes
Don’t challenge her bones

If upon a hill
A breeze does appear
Perhaps our lass
Was passing near

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