When I was smaller and growing,
In the suburbs of old Aberdeen,
Each bairn from our neighbourhood had,
Turns out, their own trampoline.
Above the back garden fences,
Excitement accelerates skyward.
Tri-umphant arms waved in the air,
While leaping as high as they could.
Intrigue provoked as I stared,
Grappling the whole mystery.
And how those high jumpers appeared,
Only marginally older than me.
“They ur booncin’ oan trampolines mah son!”
Shared auld Daddy during a chat.
Before I could ask, he fast followed up,
“Yoo’ll nae be messin’ aroond wi’ that!”