Whithorn Manse - by
I knew it as Eden,
/ that lost walled garden,
/ past the green edge
/ of priory and village;
/ and, beyond it, the house,
/ withdrawn, white,
/ one window…
Place: Scotland
Scotland - by
‘We’ll pay for it, we’ll pay for it, we’ll pay for it!’…
The Storm - by
This might be the calm before the storm / or this might be the storm; / some are sunbathing on…
The Morning After - by
It’s those unseen things that bind us, / not flag or battle-weary turf or tartan. / There are dragons to…
Rabbie, Rabbie, Burning Bright - by
Atween November’s end and noo
/ there’s really nithin else tae do
/ but climb inside a brindlet coo
/ …
Scottish Soil - by
They brought me
/ Seven handfuls of soil in seven bags
/ And a blindfold. “Now braggart,
/ Prove your boast and
/ Show us which is…
Here lies our land - by
Small folk playing our part.
/ ‘Come all ye’, the country says
/ You win me, who take me most to heart. …
Speaking of Scotland - by
What do you mean when you speak of Scotland?
/ The grey defeats that are dead and gone
/ behind the legends each generation
/ savours…
Scotland - by
It requires great love of it deeply to read
/ The configuration of a land,
/ Gradually grow conscious of fine shadings,
/ Of great meanings…
Lochnagar - by
Away, ye gay landscapes, ye gardens of roses,
/ In you let the minions of luxury rove,
/ Restore me the rocks where the…
Westering Home - by
Chorus
/ Westering home, and a song in the air,
/ Light in the eye and it’s goodbye to care.
/ Laughter o’ love,…
Scotland - by
Here in the Uplands
/ The soil is ungrateful;
/ The fields, red with sorrel,
/ Are stony and bare.
/ A few trees, wind-twisted –
/ Or are…