The hoi polloi were inquisitive of pelting
Forage famine and began to shrivelling
Drought blanket and upon the entire bush
The thatches restored ramshackle to meagre
And starvation startling the crofters.
In the season they'd all crowned;than ago
And sentenced to less drought by words
Soon set out beside huts and encountered
To the Deity,for a blissful impeachment
And for Him to shadow them with pelting.
Colour yet for speed twenty beseeches
Which should-less bigotry retired
Though, extroverts gallantry shelves frequently
Rosy,Giver retorted it to them:not for bigotry...
And worthwhile them with the parabolic season.
A walk In Crofters Lane.
I like to walk down Crofters Lane
among the thick hedgerow.
and listen to the critters sounds
as I quietly go.
A rabbit bobs his head up
as if to say ," Hello!"
Then off he hops along his way
as there's somewhere he must go.
A hedgehog scurries back and forth
as busy as can be.
He must be looking out
for something nice for tea.
Then to my right in Crofters field
I spied a little mole
messing up Crofters field
but I'll not tell a soul.
Walking over by the gate
I see creatures great and small
birds up in the tree tops high
and critters on the wall.
I'm in awe of all creation
I find in Crofters lane.
I'll be on my way now
but soon be back again.
Nothing He Could Do!
As I sat watching the river by an old craggy wall
in Glendyke Lane near Crofters Brew.
A small face looked up at me as he popped his head through.
"Hello." said I, "Now don't be shy, I just like to say,
how do you do."
"How do." said he as he jumped free.
"Why waste your time on me?"
"Waste my time on you, waste my time on you.
I'll wait all day if that's my way
there's nothing you can do!"
"Nothing I can do." says he, "Nothing I can do!
You waste your time on me, says he and there's
nothing I can do!
Well I could crawl back down craggy wall,
that's what I should do."
"Crawl back down craggy wall, well I've got news for you.
One move left or right and it would seem my dreams come true.
One bite from me and you will see
that's the end of you."
Hmmmmmmmm! Tasty.
We remove the stones from the field
like they were rotten teeth
stepped carefully over hawthorn hedge
stepped with tired and heavy feet
Remember this by the fireside
ash and flame and sap and sound
calloused hands over death black hearth
heavy eyes remember heavier ground
There is flame in these hands and feet
that melt the earth and dry the eye
it sweeps the weary from the field
pours your life out by and by.
Tomorrow the sun will rise
curlews spin on sky and reed
we prepare the earth to receive
sing some song to cast our seed
Now my head grows heavy still
fire light sink into black dark
I will lie down on my settle bed
return to greet life's beating heart.
Scottish crofters from Wallace's time,
trying to make a living of the land
committing not any crime.
With God’s grace and will to raise
a family keeping it simple, yet nothing
was going to be “run of the mill”
An English King, a tyrant so ruthless and
willing to invade. Reasoning was futile
it was impossible to persuade.
He rampaged with vast army's,
taking away the Scotsman's “freedom”
What is a life if you are not free
to roam the place you call home.
Sir William Wallace made a choice,
He stood up to be Scotland's voice.
Shining in courage strong for our
God given right “our freedom”
Wallace became the people’s champion,
put upon a pedestal, so he honoured
this with his battle skills.
With great courage and gifted in the
art of war. He defeated the English
upon the battle field, with his almighty
clamour sword.
Through the English army's impetuous
foresight. Wallace stood and watched
blood soaked as the remaining sasinacks
took flight.
On the Isle of Skye and Raasay
In eighteen fifty one,
The English Government army
Cleared Scotland's daughters and sons,
Cumberland burned their villages
To ensure cultural disappearance,
Was this Highland subjugation ?
Or Was this a human clearance ?.
There was a ban on tartan
And breaking the law you'd be libel,
If you spoke the Gaelic tongue
Or read a Gaelic bible,
With potato famine and poverty
And without the tartan regalia,
Scotland's most precious resource
Sailed for Canada and Australia.
40,000 cleared from the glens
Left clan chiefs to the land,
Turning them into landlords
And into an upperclass band,
Some crofters came to the meetings
To discuss the so-called fair rent,
Only to be tossed on boats
Like sheep being sent to their death.
But despite these human clearances
And loss of life by the ton,
They've had their final say
You could say they still have won,
The new world is heavily populated
With those of highland appearances,
To ensure we never forget
The highland and human clearances.