Open Poetry #50 |
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The Lonely Troubador |
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Gunslinger Senior Member
since 1999-10-09
Posts 901TX, USA ![]() |
A vision. Aye! a vision- Of how things ought to be, Alas, I lack the power, To make them so. You see? Who am I? do ye question? Hoot, mon! an' dinna ye ken.. I am the ghost o' Christmas past An' a' that's ever been. Ah, at the pass o' Glencoe- Where Scottish bluid ran red... Ah, Charlie wi' his folly It's long ago been said.. I've worn the somber tartan Of yon Black Watch, y'see? When bagpipes are a shrillin' In the front rank ye'll find me. With musketoon, or claymore- Or H&K assault, The Scotsmen rise to danger Their courage not at fault.. An' me, it is a bard I am- Last of a lonely breed- Who tell the tales, and sing the songs The world will never heed. Puir Rabbie, an' his haggis Puir Tam an' his last dram- Puir me, wi' all me tales to tell They make me what I am. Ye'll never hurt my feelin's If you dinna call fer more- I bear the blood of Highlanders A lonely troubador |
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© Copyright 2019 John R. Yaws - All Rights Reserved | |||
Marchmadness Member Rara Avis
since 2007-09-16
Posts 9271So. El Monte, California |
Intriguing indeed. |
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Inspired-8 Member
since 2008-04-14
Posts 311Pluto |
Amazing...... Inspired-8 |
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