THE COLL SHOW

by ROBERT ERSKINE

The Coll spirit is alight
It really does burn bright
First Friday in August the joy overflows
And whole families compete to the standard of the pros.

There are classes for sheep;
It doesn't matter if they leap.
The vegetables are in classes
On the tables they stand like mountain passes.

Seaweed mixed with muck makes the soil alluvial:
The carrots are so big they are unreal.
The potatoes are so good they are judged the best of best.
And that was said without a wince of jest.

The floral decorations fill front stage.
Two hundred more entries, they really are the rage.
These wild flowers have such a pungent scent,
They catch the nostrils of every island gent.

Another two hundred items are on the baking table packed,
Breads and scones galore, cakes and pancakes stacked.
The smell is just delicious,
Aromatic not fictitious.

And the centre table is dedicated to knitters
The Coll knitting Bee just puts you into jitters.
These Coll ladies work throughout the night.
The standard achieved is higher than a kite.

We must not forget the children's classes too.
They attract attention right the noo.
Shell gardens are a form of art,
That pulls and tugs the heart.

And pieces on the shore,
Give interest to the core.
There was Dutchman's clog,
It would be perfect in a bog.
And Neptune's candle stood,
A light to eat the pud.

Spectacular was the metal weathervane,
The painting and welding all so very game
Adult's art and children's art,
Were another pleasing part.

The exhibits were an eyeful.
Yes, they were much more than cool.
Outside the children danced the Highland Fling,
And 'best kept pet' competed in the ring.

The winner was the collie
Which was so very jolly.
Pony came nowhere,
Despite washing and brushing and other loving care.

The cross country event got a lot of attention
The Ladies cup went-a-missing, what a mention.
Charlie won the men's,
To applaud of all his friends.
Alison won the Ladies,
the fastest in the Isle,
The cheers she got were quite a pile.

Pete Smalley was convenor;
No, he was not a dreamer.
He commanded the show together
A Sergeant Major could not do better.
But the humour was in tons,
As he ad libbed with all his puns.

Heroes he made the cup winners
They knew they weren't beginners.
Some had baked the night right through
To grace the judges' chew.

Some had slaved the year and more,
To make their gardens give galore.
Some had knitted 'til their fingers got a cramp,
In the small hours by a lamp.

Some had fed their sheep on oats
And had carefully brushed their coats.
The children had practised their dancing.
When they could have been out prancing.

The cup winners were the super Collachs,
Won, I would say, with some super frolics.
Catriona Brodie was the tops, the cups she won were legion.
She was the Champion of this region.

The Show is a huge endeavour,
Which the Coll folk will never sever,
They celebrated that night,
When the lights were shining bright.

They danced the evening thru,
And the Malin band was true.
And the raffle they did draw,
And the goodies were galore.


A TV set for starters,
And a lawyer's will for afters,
Coll Show day was a treasure,
With lots and lots of pleasure.