A wee wicker basket

Wi knives

Forks

Plates

Cups

Pieces

Flaskes o tea
Bags o sugar
Biscuits
An a big tartan travelin rug
Spreid evenly oan the saft gress

The wund whustles her gentle chinge
In the trees
The lift derkens an a saft smirr
O fine rain blaws in

Mak guid the hap

Life

Efter awe

Is nae picnic

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