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The Lonely Troubador
| Open Poetry #4 |
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The Lonely Troubador |
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John Yaws Senior Member
since 1999-10-09
Posts 860Texas 
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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, ------------------ Live large, people! ~GS~ http://www.geocities.com/montcogunslinger/HomePage.html |
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| © Copyright 1999 John R. Yaws - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Denise
Moderator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-08-22
Posts 22648 |
You'll never be lonely here! Great Job! I love that Scottish accent!  ------------------ Denise |
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