thehighlanderspoems

'Mort Ghlinne Comhann' 

A number of centuries ago
In 1692, in a place called Glencoe
      Where a massacre took place
And the Clan Campbell lost face
When neighbours were sometimes your foe 


My Home

Welcome to my home for this is where I'll stay
It's where I was born, and where I'll end my days

It rests on the banks, of the Caledonian Canal
Surrounded by it's Highland beauty, in typical enthral

Cedars, Firs and Birch trees, iconic in their settings
Rain clouds often surround us, cascades them in their wetting

Then there's the carpets of heather, that cover clannish grounds
Where you can tip toe over it's surface, and not even leave a sound

To view the blooms of gorse, and marvel at our thistles
Just leaves you so in awe, walking with a whistle

We appreciate what nature gives, these breathing awesome beings
To watch them in her wilds, we rub our eyes at seeing

We are steeped in wondrous history, some good and not so grand
But nowhere on this earth, will you have stepped on welcomed lands

So welcome to my home, of mountains and the glens
Where us Highlanders reside, the ultimate of men




My Glens, my Kingdom

In mossed heathered
Glens, Craggy undulations
Surround my Kingdom


The Caravan that Rocked

Now this is a little story of the caravan that rocked
Whether parked in roadside lay-bys, the locals were never shocked

They travelled from the Highlands and motored so far and wide
Exercising their freedom, oh my! that you couldn't hide

They lived just south of Ullapool, and further north than Perth
But no matter where they parked, they always made it worth

Now this couple they liked to journey, to places so far from home
To York, Scarborough and Edinburgh, so capital in their roam

Where ever they went they took in the sights, so beautiful they grace
But every so often their caravan rocked, but never in a windy place

Their holiday nearly over, it's time to head back up the road
Passing places where their caravan rocked, their travelling home abode

They pass such lovely places, like Stirling and Callender
Stopping of at Granton On Spey, their holidays take them afar

Now very close to home, boo! it's work in a couple of days
But they don't mind, for their caravan rocked, without a wind to sway  


Our Highland Stag

~"~ Our King of the Glens ~"~
~"~ In proud defense of it's realm ~"~
~"~"Majestic in stance ~"~