A favortite poet & song writer for me is Robert Burns, here is a regular ‘old favorite’ by him,
His Addresses To A Haggis
Fair fa’ your honest, sonsie face,
Great cheiftain o’ the puddin’ -race!
Aboon them a’ ye tak your place,
Painch, tripe, or thairm
Weel are ye wordy o’ a grace
As lang’s my arm.
The groaning trencher there ye fill,
Your hurdies like a distant hill,
Your pin wad help to mend a mill
In time o’ need,
While thro’ your pores the dews distil
Like amber bead.
His knife see rustic labour dight,
An’ cut you up wi’ ready slight,
Trenching your gushing entrails bright,
Like ony ditch;
And then, O what a glorious sight,
Warm-reekin’, rich!
Then, horn for horn , they streatch an’ strive
Deil tak the hindmost! on they drive,
Till a’ their well-swall’d kytes belyve
Are bent like drums
Then auld Guidman, maist like to rive,
" Bethanket!" hums.
Is there that owre his French ragout,
Or olio that wad staw a sow,
Or fricassee wad mak her spew
Wi’ perfect sconner,
Looks down wi’ sneering, scornfu’ veiw
On sic a dinner?
Poor devil! see him owre his trash,
As feckless as a wither’d rash,
His spindle shank, a guid whip-lash,
His neive a nit;
Thro’ bluidy flood or field to dash,
O how unfit!
But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed,
The trembleing earth resounds his tread,
Clap in his walie neive a blade,
He’ll make it whissle;
An’ legs an’ arms, an’ heads will sned,
Like taps o’ thrissle.
Ye Pow’rs who mak mankind your care,
And dish them out their bill o’fare,
Auld Scotland wants nae skinking ware
That jaups in luggies
But, if ye wish her gratefu’ prayer,
Gie her a Haggis!
I know i’m a few days early, 
but thought better early than late 
Any one else got a poem to add by Robert Burns 