»
Archives
»
Open Poetry #45
»
Tale # 24
| Open Poetry #45 |
|
Tale # 24 |
|
|
Gunslinger Senior Member
since 1999-10-09
Posts 901TX, USA 
|
I've known a lot o' lassies- An' loved me not a few… An' left them lonely in me wake Alas, 'tis true, 'tis true. An' why, pray tell? Didst leave? Ye ask... Why, mon! To ply me trade… An' lassies come, an' lassies go... Me livin' is me blade! Why, lad, there's nothin' quite the same As livin' on the road- An' many times I've packed me kit- An' left some warm abode… To travel lonely Scottish miles, To see another hill… To try an' quench me wanderlust Wi' travel drink me fill. Rob Roy were a friend o' mine- 'im of McGregor fame… An' Bob, the Bruce I likewise knew... An' 'elped 'im wi' 'is claim… Aye, 'elped to put 'im on the throne Aye, Robert, king o' Scots... An' Wallace? Aye, knew William, too... In some tight an' bloody spots. An' deeds that's past, an' them before... They canna balance scales… An' so I'll go, an' live, an' write- A few more Traveler's Tales. |
||
| © Copyright 2009 John R. Yaws - All Rights Reserved | |||
Alison 
since 2008-01-27
Posts 9318Lumpy oatmeal makes me crazy! |
I just bet he had no problems with the lassies. Any man with a singing Claymore - well, they trump magic beans! A |
||
|
|
⇧ top of page ⇧ |
|
| All times are ET (US). All dates are in Year-Month-Day format. | ||
