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Tale # 18
| Open Poetry #45 |
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Tale # 18 |
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Gunslinger Senior Member
since 1999-10-09
Posts 901TX, USA 
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Whilst travelin' down a Scottish road- I came upon a fire... Beside the which a Traveler sat- Another "blade for 'ire". 'e eyed me close, as I came up- 'is 'and upon the 'ilt- O' Spanish steel, then 'e relaxed, 'is eyes upon me kilt. "Buchanan, ey"? 'e said, an' smiled. "An' pray! an' 'ave a chair"... 'e smiled, and motioned to the sward- And bade me share his fare. "Why, lad! Perhaps I knew yer, Dad- The tartan suits ye well! Buchanan get, are fightin' men- That yer one I can tell". A crust o' bread, a slab o' cheese- A noggin full ave ale... A roadside fire, wi' cheerful bleeze- I'll tell me Traveler's tale. I mind when James was on the throne- A bloody despot, 'e! An' England flew 'er colors... On every land and sea. A Scot doth hate the English throne... But, hoot! the pay is good... An' pay they did, as Scotsmen bled- Their fine, an' noble blood. Put out yon fire! It's hooves I 'ear- A comin' down the trail... Which bids no good for posted Scots- Thus ends this Traveler's tale. |
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| © Copyright 2009 John R. Yaws - All Rights Reserved | |||
Alison 
since 2008-01-27
Posts 9318Lumpy oatmeal makes me crazy! |
I have become a Buchanan groupie. I swear. |
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Marchmadness Member Rara Avis
since 2007-09-16
Posts 9271So. El Monte, California |
A Traveler's Tale and a bit of history as well. Couldn't ask for more. Ida |
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