Brian’s Brain
In the Scottish Highland town of Tain, young Brian's garden play takes an absurd turn when his brain tumbles out of his nose and he is rendered speechless. His mother, overwhelmed by a demanding, poorly paid job, mistakes Brian’s brain for a muddy puddle and scatters seeds over it.
Miraculously, plants sprout from the spot where Brian's brain lay, and simultaneously, his voice returns as a prepubescent squeak. The botanical transformation then extends to his mother, who undergoes her own floral metamorphosis. Overjoyed, they perform a Highland jig, celebrating their bizarre new existence. The tale concludes with an abundance of fresh food, symbolising their hopeful future and profound new connection with the natural world.
Our illustrated verse is a transformative tale about overcoming adversity.
There was a child whose brain fell out While playing with a small brown trout It slid out of his freckled nose Narrowly missing his muddy toes
Firstly though, I should explain, That his name was Brian and he lived near Tain His home was a shabby button-ben With a yard, a burn and a bedraggled hen
Brian's mum was a warm- hearted person Whose vagueness often made her uncertain She worked for a notorious bully And he exploited her kindness fully
Brian's mum's degrading job Involved her working for a snob Who only paid her the minimum wage When he wasn't in a terrible rage
For want of any better work She put up with this stupid twerp But it was hard for her to ignore The fact that they were very poor
Owing to always being so tired And just relieved she hadn't been fired She failed to notice Brian's plight Until much later on that night
She wandered out with a packet of seeds Of meadow grasses and plenty of weeds "Oh joy!" she exclaimed on spotting the muddle Of brain she mistook for a sticky pink puddle
Brian just sat with his head in his hands as she dreamily told him her garden plans Scattering the seeds on his brain Knowing the forecast was for rain
With no thoughts he couldn't reply As his mum heated soup from her dwindling supply Of cans, cheap and quick, if tasteless and bland And they spooned the slop with silent hands
By teatime promising shoots had grown From the compost comprising blood and bone By night time buds were forming fast Flowers getting ready to blast
Slowly, bizarrely Brian found words Forming like cheese from whey and curds Initially sounding a ludicrous squeak He tested his voice in an effort to speak
Brian's fair curls began to turn The colour of chestnuts, moss and fern And his voice became like the lilting call Of a woodpigeon high upon the wall
His mother gasped in awe and wonder Aware of the sound of distant thunder While tiny green stems continued to spread Within the space in Brian's head
Brian moved to hug his mum Who looked as if she wished to run But instead she opened both arms wide Embracing him with fulsome pride
While studying his mum up close Brian spotted something gross He wriggled away with loud exclaim "Oh mum - your hair's gone up aflame!"
Laughing his mum replied 'How funny, I guess the bees have made us honey! Wow look at us both as wild as can be I wonder what else will happen to me?"
Her eyebrows sprouted tiny flowers As Brian's tear ducts squirted showers Of water natural as a mountain spring And then they danced a Highland Fling
The kitchen walls once drab and bare Climbed with berries and a very big pear Shelves that once sat bleak and waiting Were now laden with food for baking
On went the oven, pastry prepped All of the left overs to be kept Mother and son supped on hot pie As the full moon beamed down from the sky
Later they sat listening to birds Sing songs that rang like lovely words Telling them how their bowls would flow With foods that they would always grow