Caithness

Caithness short poem

He falls and snuggles like a lover to the floor;
dreams spilling from the bottle in the weathered-hand.
Beyond the door, dead-brochs lie buried on the moor.
Forebears are but sepulchral-weals upon the land.

Dreams spilling from the bottle in the weathered-hand,
where ghostly druid-stones gather for the moon-dance;
forebears are but sepulchral-weals upon the land,
grey-tombs, blending with the plunder of the Clearance.

Where ghostly druid-stones gather for the moon-dance,
frail farmer huddles in the shelter of the dell;
grey-tombs, blending with the plunder of the Clearance,
as flimsy-boxes march in fashion on the swell.

Frail farmer huddles in the shelter of the dell.
The peasant wearies of the burden of the toil,
as flimsy boxes march in fashion on the swell,
to shoulder for the view they one-day will despoil.

The peasant wearies of the burden of the toil,
just as a fresh and eager-crop spring from the seed
to shoulder for the view they one-day will despoil,
aware the time has come to take the misty-lead.

Just as a fresh and eager-crop spring from the seed,
out on the peaty-flows the foreign-firs take hold,
aware the time has come to take the misty-lead,
with roots deep-nourished by the corpses in the mould.

Out on the peaty-flows the foreign-firs take hold.
Beyond the door, dead-brochs lie buried on the moor.
With roots deep-nourished by the corpses in the mould,
he falls and snuggles like a lover to the floor.

brochs = Pictish tower, sepulchral weals = burial mounds, ghostly druid-stones = stone circles, Clearance = Highland clearances, flimsy boxes = new, pretentious, housing, fresh and eager crop = youth, peaty-flows = flow country (Caithness), foreign firs = alien trees – planted by speculators..Also human incomers.

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In the early days I imagined myself wandering the lanes of England with a rucksack on my back and, maybe, something lively in my hip-flask. I saw myself sitting on a hill somewhere, scribbling poems and, hopefully, making enough to keep body and soul together. But life isn't like that and, after a few years at sea and in the army, I found myself with a wife and kids to keep. So now, with three novels wallowing on Kindle, I scribble the odd rhyme by way of a hobby and shove it on my blog. Hope someone out there finds them interesting.
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