Stravaiger Poetry
Willow's Weep
Awaken from your slumber, my beautiful rose
Though if you are dreaming, I dare not impose
Here, 'neath the willow's weep where we lie
Eyes looking out at the now autumnal sky
There, where the sun sets - such rare amber hue
I am blessed to be here; to share such a view
With you, I would share all my moments like this
So show me your hand, I'll ask for your kiss
Lay your sweet head, once again, in my arms
Feel the soft breeze bringing with it, a calm
Listen as the thrush sings his last summer song
May this moment be with us our whole life long
Coming of Winter
When at the setting of the autumnal sun
When Alba's weary winter has begun
Man and animal, their shelters build
For the coming of snow upon the hill
When first frost freezes each leaf grown
When auld Jack Frost, his face has shown
Atlantic winds blast through, like death
His dark shadow casts an icy breath
When short are the days; long the nights
When wood fire burns to embers bright
All living things will coorie in for warmth
First, gathering before the coming storms
When lochs and burns are turned to ice
When woodland creatures retreat to hides
Not seen again til Mother Nature brings
The sweetest scent of glorious spring
Natur
Wha kens o thin places whaur magick exists?
Amang the flora an fauna, whaur faeries dae kiss
Sic bliss is neer miss'd bi the saul o the poet
'Tis mine ain saul ah bare; ah'm nae feart tae shaw it
Tae speik o thin places whaur divine airt's display'd
An the soon aw aroon, 'tis eer sae naturally play'd
Tae describe in verse - thon sicht, soon, an smell
Enchants imagination as tho boon bi true spell
O, wee folk an faeries, in ancient kingdoms dae bide
Tho frae the gaze o mankind, thae sae aften hide
Fir 'tis true, we loast touch sic a lang time ago
Man'll vanish the laun insteed o lettin it grow
Tho thir's mony guid fowk wha stravaig wild heather
Wha dae see thro, an see true colour an splendour
An bring us the airts; in aw thair graundest o forms
An bless us wi happiness, joy, peace, an warmth
New Stars
Every day we think of you
Even though you're gone
Your soul is with the stars above
Though, your memory lives on
Here, on Earth; with those you loved
And those who loved you dearly
Only need to speak your name
To see your face so clearly
'Tis true, you were taken far too soon
Though, our love and bond are strong
At night, we look up to the sky
To see new stars being born
All of us keep smiling too
For 'tis true, this is not the end
Time will come when we're called home
And it's then that we'll meet again
She Is
She is my lover, my saviour, my muse
My bonnie, my starlight sublime
She is my angel, my treasure, my true
My sweetheart of perfect design
She is the twinkle who inhabits my eye
The lass who has captured my heart
She is the dream that I have on each night
The last kiss that I steal as we part
I'll see her again, in a land of my dreams
For I know she'll be waiting for me
We'll go hand in hand - eternal, it seems
Never leaving this sweet reverie
Wild Erin
Tho' rain may fall as skies loom grey
I watch silent, the stormy sea crash ashore
Listening to the roar of waves as they spray
With the wild wind whipping up more
In this enchanting land, I stand enchanted
Where tales were told of old Irish folklore
The land where Fianna warriors commanded
Where true laochra lived long ago
Birthplace of legends and leaders of men
Who thrived here, on Erin's northerly shore
Tall grew the trees of Antrim's green glens
The 'Dord Féinne' was the warrior's roar
It is here I feel peace; a sense I belong
With a familiar feeling, I've been here before
As I stand on the land of my ancestors past
Only now does the rain start to pour
Tho' rain does fall from skies now grey
I watch silent, the stormy sea crash ashore
Listening to the roar of waves as they spray
With the wild wind whipping up more
The Ghaist o Waulkmill Glen
Ane daurken'd nicht, as a bluid Mune rose fu
An ae cauld, eerie blast - wi'oot warnin - cam thro
Ah wis oan thon auld gate thit gangs thro the glen
Whin biddin guid nicht tae the teugh haunts o men
An aye, tis true thit ah'd haen a sowpe or twa
Tho neer tae the point thit ah'd bin proppin up the baur
Sae wi a wee heid oan, ah wis richt tae tak thon gate
Tho neer did ah ken whit unhaly hell lay in wait
Fir tis sayd thit this laun haed bin curs'd lang ago
An the laird o the glen wha haed bade thair afore
Wis the ghaist wha appear'd tae frichten the weans
Wi blackest velvet cloak, tap hat, an cane
Een rid-rimm'd an black, lik the deepest abyss
An ivry tap o his cane thro thon thick creepin mist
Wuid sen ten tingles up an doon ony man's spine
Frae the haurdiest o men, tae the devoutly inclin'd
As the bricht lichts ahent grew eer faurther awa
Twis then - in thon daurkness - then thit ah saw
A black figure appear, as tall as twa men
Twis nane er thin the ghaist o Waulkmill Glen
Ah gasp'd sic a gasp - fir the tales - thae wir true
As ah stuid - hair oan end - froze in mine shoes
Shuir enouch, his ain een star'd back blacker thin coal
Nae langer wis he jist a story bein told
An as he drew closer, wi each tap o his cane
Ah sweir - in thon daurkness - he did caw ma name
An wi that - ah wis aff - ah did tak tae ma heels
Back doon thon auld gate, an doon past the fields
Syne thon daurken'd nicht, whin the bluid Mune rose fu
Ah'v neer bin back near thon auld gate thit gangs thro
An ah'll gie a sterk warnin tae ony brave men
Treid nae near the haunt o the ghaist o the glen
New Morn
Such gentle breeze does sea air bring
The tail of South Atlantic wind
To and fro it slowly flings
Sweet spring scent of flowers new
They sway, glistening in the new morn's dew
Éadan Mór
Ancient kingdom, warriors roar
Bold mac Báetáin, Éadan Mór
Men of honour; tribal pride
Heads unbowed, side by side
Call to arms, the battle cry
For men to live, men must die
Pray for passage if death awaits
Grant me courage to meet my fate
The final hour, the battle drum
Beating hearts now beat as one
Sword & shield, the bravest men
Of Ulaid's hills, of Aontroim's glens
The Stravaiger
In wyld Arra-Gháidheal, whaur mo chridh' stravaigs free
Oh, thir's nary a place thit ah'd raither be
Thon sweet scent o samhradh waftin in gentle breeze
Thro Alba's lush grein kintra, thin owre hir choppy seas
Tae Eilean Arainn, whaur Gaoithe Bheinn kisses the sky
Oan the isle o the adders - eer sae shy
Is a calmness, the lik o which, ah'v niver known
In this place o mine birthplace, mine kintra, mine home
Frae Claonaig tae Ceann na Creige; owre Cinn Tìre's hills
Naurin day's aynd - noo come soo'wast chills
Still, it fills me wi wonder tae wander an lose
Masel here, in the hairtlaun o sic braithtakin views
Thin oan tae auld Ìle, whaur uisge beatha warms the soul
The ceòl thae play thare haes mine ain chridh' stole
Wi thon sweet scent o samhradh waftin in gentle breeze
Oh, thir's nary a place thit ah'd raither be
The Brae
Darkness setting in earlier each night
November's Moon shines a steadying glow
Coldness creeps fast, turning water to ice
The fields covered in brilliant white snow
Walking this road well-known to me
To the place where I played as a child
I am lost in my fondest memories
Of roaming around in the wild
The flow of the brock, never-ending
So I sit alone, lost in its sounds
I imagine past peoples walking this path
Then me treading the very same ground
Painted black sky, infinite pinholes of light
Raise my vibration as I lay gazing in awe
How I wish I could stay til night becomes day
On the brae, where the view is sae braw
This Life
This life has been kind to me, my love
For it has brought me here, to you
This life has been kind to me, my love
For I followed my heart here, to you
This life has been kind to thee, my love
For it has given you the gift of warmth
This life has been kind to me, my love
For you're the calm who quells my storm
This life has been kind to me, my love
For it has given me your heart to hold
This life has been kind to thee, my love
For 'tis your own heart that lets it be so
This life has been kind to thee, my love
For you are truly the purest of souls
This life has been kind to me, my love
For our memories shall never grow old
Brock Burn
Ah see ye thair, in thon wind bush, hidin
Yir wee burra hame, whaur ye'v ay bin bidin
An me sat here whilst quietly writin
Jist tae catch a glance
O yir wee bunnle new
Tak thair first chance
Aw fluffy an fuzzy, ay dairtin aboot
Doon bi the loch; whaur rise the broon troot
Whaur paths hae been trodd'n bi mony a foot
An ah dae ken unco weel
Thais saft rollin hills
An how mine ain hairt feels
Sic serenity resides here, unner shelter o oak
Wi sweet smell o cherry frae wid burnin smoke
An the eer gentle flawin soon o the brock
As it trickles oan thro
Fills my being wi warmth
Mine clarity renew'd
Arthur's Croass
In Arthur's lea, thair sits his croass
Layin clame tae aw afore it
It yince wis loast; noo haes bin fun
An a puckle weel-kent men did restoir it
Tae former glorie, quhich yince it held
Owre a thoosan yeir afore
Tho worne an widderit bi Alba's past
Still, it tak's pryde o place in folklore
Mac Áedáin, the man thae cawed 'The King'
Thae erectit the stane in his hoanour
It stands in the land o thys ancient man
An mine ain toon, it luiks doon upoan hir
Sae heir's tae ye, Arthur - Dux bellorum
In remembrance o lang syne pass'd
Ah'm nae the first wi knoulege tae speik
An shuir enough, ah'll nae eer bi the last
Dál Riata
Ethereal mist surrounds the stones
In Dál Riata's land of ancient past
Where lie the tribe of rested bones
Stand symbols of power built to last
Stones that stand on sacred ground
Still withstanding the test of time
Alongside remnants of burial mounds
With their age-old, carved designs
The once-thriving cridhe na rìoghachd
Dùn Ad rising from a' Mhòine Mhòr
Where stood great kings of hill & loch
In time of peace; in time of war
Through these glens, souls still remain
Their many memories fill each space
I feel the blood flow through my veins
I am a part of this historical place
Achnabreac
On through the wild and winding wood
Where nestle birds with new spring brood
Where the foraging fox finds his food
I ramble, imbued with a sense of true inner peace
In awe of this rousing, timeless masterpiece
The Creag
Quhilest thon wast wind blaws ae haurdy gale
An rain faws fast, oan thon wind-blastit trail
E'en et times, turnin frae rain tae hail
Still, oanward ah mairch
Up bi Johnny’s well
Unner the auld airch
Unner the auld airch, an owre bi the hey bales
Up the auld fort; tae whaur the wind wails
A graund settin fir sae mony braw tales
The brave men wha mairchit
Intae battle or Hell
In a time noo passit
A time noo passit; still, fragments thit remain
Oan sacrit laun, whaur fast faws the rain
Unwritten history - faces wi nae names
Twad bi sad nae tae tell
A wee tale or twa
O the men wha here fell
The men wha here fell unner imperial reign
In an age lang ago; in a laun faur frae hame
Forest coverit wilderness nae yit tame
Fierce fechtin thae did face
Eitch slayn yin bi yin
Oan this grun, this sacrit place
Bluebell Sunday
Sic a beautiful sicht thit eer ye'll see
Ae sea o newest blue, surroonit bi trees
Faither's haun creatit sic picturesque vibrance
An gied us the sangbyrd tae brek hauntin silence
O, aw men behaud the airt o beauteous natur
An aw ken tae, thit nae man cuid it bi tam'd fir
Sic precious a gift shuid neer bi taen fir grantit
Bless'd new life springs frae whaur it wis plantit
Come rain or come shine, in the middle o May
Ah urge ony guid fowks tae gang gar merry way
Tae Creag wuid, an catch sicht o ae wondrous marvel
Ah'll assure ye aw richt noo, 'tis well worth the travel
An gin yir luck's guid, lik mine oan thon day
Ye'll catch a wee swatch o the Bizzard thare tae
Wha'll gie a wee shaw owreheid, lik she's dauncin
Sic splendour tae see; whin ye caw oot, she's answerin
'Tis sic a beautiful sicht thit eer ye'll see
In thys auld laun thit wis giftit tae ye an tae me
Fir Alba, mine freens, she truly is oor ain bonie country
An ah'm sae unco thankfu fir thon braw bluebell Sunday
As Night Falls
See the sun setting o'er the brae
As the day slips away into night
Hear the songbird's final tune
Cold Moon's glow slowly shines bright
See the old badger, through keenest of eyes
Foraging through bracken and bush
Hear the tawny owl's "twit-twoo, twit-twoo!"
Echo hauntingly down through the whoosh
The hedgehog hurriedly scurries along
A scurrying through hedgerows he goes
Bats flap furiously through the night sky
Always darting up high, then down low
Wood pigeon roost in the birch by the burn
Near where the willow trees grow
The fox, he trots on in his journey of one
Leaving nothing but prints in the snow
Shackles
As ah lee aneath the starnie firmament, ah gaze in amazin awe
Tho how ah ken, in time, thit dawn'll cam, thin paintit canvas faw
As eer, the morn chorus syne the birth o man'll play oot naturs sang
A melodie in tune wi the angel's voice, noo droon'd oot amidst the thrang
Let nae man hear it, unless he quiet his mind an daur tae find his path
Tae brek free o the rat race soon an tak the shackles aff
Le Do Thaobh
Táimse in éineacht leat, a ghrá
Táimse anseo le do thaobh
Táimse in éineacht leat, a ghrá
Mairfidh ár ngrá go deo
The North
This rich, rugged landscape of mountains & lochs
Where snow-capped peaks meet the skies
This timeless terrain of auld cairns & brochs
In the north, where the great eagle flies
This is the land of the tall standing stones
Home of the ancient warrior races
Brave men of the hill, seed of the Gael
Strong Pict men with fierce, painted faces
This spacious place, where eyes are inspired
Past peoples who ventured these trails
True harmonies sung by high-flying choir
O'er fire, spoke historic tales
This land is the land of my ancestral home
Where the deer roam wild & free
If this be all that I've ever known
At least I'll have known the true me
Dùn Mòr
Rambling along the Dùn Mòr trail, scrambling over rocks
This beaten path beneath my feet; the ground on which I walk
Could tell a thousand tales or more, of a thousand years now past
Remnants of another time lie still among the grass
Standing at the guard post, looking back from whence I came
At the standing stone which stands alone; is all that now remains
The entrance to this once-great fort, to see with mine own eyes
A glimpse of auld Argyll's heart under a Gaelic sky
Ascending to the summit - the breathing place of the Gael
I'm suddenly met with such a sublime view, a painting yet unveiled
Looking out o'er Loch Fyne; across the roaring sea so vast
In this land steeped in our history, I hear echoes of the past
Descending from the summit, on down by the rocky crag
I gaze down at my trodden trail, where stands the majestic stag
Though only for a second, but for that second, our eyes meet
To the ancient king of the forest, I give a nodding greet
Journeying back along the trail, across the babbling burn
With just enough time for to sit awhile; to catch the setting sun
I walk alongside the lochan; there, I sit between darkness and light
As the sun sets beyond the horizon, I watch as day becomes night
An Cailín Domsa
Ó, a chéad ghrá, a ghrá mo chroí
Tá tú an cailín domsa
A chéad ghrá, a chuisle mo chroí
Tá tú i gcónaí liomsa
Ó, a chéád ghrá, a ghrá mo chroí
Tá grá agam ortsa
A chéad ghrá, a chuisle mo chroí
Tá mé i gcónaí leatsa
Ó, a chéad ghrá, a ghrá mo chroí
An mbeidh tú ag damhsa?
A chéad ghrá, a chuisle mo chroí
Led' thoil damhsa liomsa
Ó, a chéad ghrá, a ghrá mo chroí
Go deo beidh mé leatsa
A chéad ghrá, a chuisle mo chroí
Go deo an cailín domsa
Jist Yin Mare
Kin naehin bi sayd fir jist yin mare?
Ah sweir - in the morn - ma heid micht bi sare
Tho thais rare times in life wi uisge an freens
We maun mak the best o thais eer-fleetin dreams
Sae jist yin mare; fir the guid o mine health
Ah'll raise a wee dram wi a tale thit ah've telt
In braid Lallans tae; quhich mony guid men hae spak
Ramsay, Fergusson, an Burns ur weel worthy o that
Tho mony dae speik in thon braw Scots tongue
A tongue spaken amang baith the auld an the young
Sae ah'll raise a dram again, an say "slàinte!" tae aw thaim
Afore ah maun tak tae the daurk nicht an mak ma wy hame
Golden Leaves
Golden leaves now leave their trees, falling with the rain
Parting softly from each branch; one day will grow again
The promise of a bountiful spring - for now - shall have to keep
The time has come for Barleycorn to rest his head and sleep
Golden leaves now leave their trees, scattering with the wind
Breezing along the Crinan banks as autumn's time begins
The din of people passing through, now quieting by the day
The rays of a setting summer sun slowly start to fade away
Golden leaves now leave their trees, acquainting with the morn
Passing through a new day's light that brings a new day's dawn
The amber or deep golden-browns fall down, from way up high
The perfect picturesque setting would catch the artist's eye
Golden leaves now leave their trees, dancing with the day
Fluttering to their mother's heartbeat, such is nature's way
The seasons are ever-changing; with the waning of the light
We'll bid farewell to seasons past and welcome in the night
Sióga an Ghleanna
Mar thrasnaigh mé an trá go dtí an dún
Bhí an ghrian ag scoilteadh na gcloch
Bhí tonnáin ar an loch 's leoithne bhog samhraidh
Rinne mé scíth a ligean ann le haghaidh deoch
Ansin tháinig mé go dtí mo chéad chosán eile
Chuaigh mé ag fánaíocht tríd an gcoill
Ar an mbealach go dtí an áit ina gcónaíonn na sióga
Gar don seanchrann darach sa ghleann ceoil
Bhí sé ann, gur chonaic mé beirt sióga ag pógadh
Ach níor leomh mé cur isteach ar a bpaisean
D'fhág mé braon bainne mar bhronntanas dóibhsean
Mar a bhí mé ag urramú ár seanthraidisiúin
Mo Shinsir
D'imigh an Ghrian faoi bhun na spéire
Thar sléibhte na tíre ar a dtugtar Éire
Shíl mé ar mo shinsir féin, a tháinig romham
Is sa nóiméad aonair sin a scaoileadh mo bhrón
Mar a sheas mé ar an talamh mo shinsir
Bhí a fhios agam ansin, go raibh mé cinnte
Bhí siad ina seasamh ann díreach in aice liom
Is iad mo réaltaí eolais iad atá anseo i gcónaí dom
Is é seo an áit ina mbaineann mo chroí
Táim i bhfad níos láidre anseo i ngach slí
Nuair a thagann an t-am do mo chodladh síoraí
Beidh mo luaithreach scaipthe ó chósta Chiarraí
Aoibh Gháire
Inniu beidh mé ag dul go dtí an trá
Toisc go bhfuil an aimsir go breá
Táim ag dul go dtí an trá, a ghrá
Ar mhaith leat siúl liomsa?
Taispeáin do aoibh gháire milis domsa
Inniu beimid ag dul go dtí an trá
Toisc go bhfuil an ghrian go breá
Táimíd ag dul go dtí an trá, a ghrá
Tá tú anseo anois liomsa
Taispeáin do aoibh gháire milis domsa
Inniu táimíd ag siúl ar feadh an trá
Toisc go bhfuil an lá seo go breá
Táimíd ag siúl ar feadh an trá, a ghrá
An bhfanfaidh tú anseo liomsa?
Taispeáin do aoibh gháire milis domsa
Nae Weel
Snotters galore is the sicht thit we see
His fuzzy wee heid nae grinnin wi glee
Fir the day, he's nae weel - a terrible shame
Nae nursery aither, fir he's haed tae sty hame
Thae caw it the cauld; it's knoackit him fir six
The neb ran awa, sae noo he jist sits
Puff-eyed an quiet, fir 'tis nae lik him at aw
The quietest we'v heird; the stillest we'v saw
The wee chiel's nae weel - whit a terrible shame
Darn ye, auld cauld, 'tis ye wha's tae blame
Sae tae gar ye awa; he'll stairt gettin better
An the warmest o weather'll tak place o the wetter
Cats an Dugs
Cats an dugs ur rare wee freens
Weel-kent fir the qualities thae hae
Mare sae thin the average man, it seems
O, wratchit cratur made frae clay
Muse
Slowly, she unfurled her soft
Jasmine-scented hair
Her curvaceous, shapely figure
Silhouetted in the moonlit window
With the ease of the gentle, night-time breeze
Leisurely, she made her way over
I longed for, what felt like an eternity
Caressing her warm, nubile lips
As soft as summer clouds
Both our bodies intertwined as one
From a single kiss
Until the dawning of the fresh morn's sun
Wrapped in each other's arms
A moment forever etched in memory
The passage of time
Grants us only a few such blessed times
Before our light must fade, like dying stars
As Nicht Fa's
See the sun settin owre the brae
As the day slips awa intae nicht
Hear the sangbird's final tune
Cauld Mune's glaw slawly schynes bricht
See the auld brock thro keenest o een
Foragin thro bracken an bush
Hear jenny hoolet's "twit-twoo, twit-twoo!"
Echo hauntinly doon thro the whoosh
The hurcheon hurriedly scurries alang
A scurryin thro heedgeraws, he gangs braw
Bawkies flap furiously thro the nicht sky
Aywys dairtin up hich, thain doon law
Cushie doos roost in the birk bi the burn
Near whaur the sauchen trees graw
The tod, he trots oan in his journey o yin
Leain naehin but prints in the snaw
Temple Wood
Shafts of sunlight passed through
The grove of vibrant green oak
Shone upon stone, an ochre hue
With a song, the new dawn broke
Gone away, the night; star-laden sky
Heavenly blue that had replaced
Then from the cool shade, I stepped
To feel a warmth that bless'd my face
This auspicious place of sacred sites
Where I walked between two worlds
Of whispering trees and ancient rites
Where the subtlest wind does swirl
Wave-rounded stones, hard underfoot
Encircling the Druidical circle
Under soil and stone; where roots lie
This hallow'd ground of ancient ritual
The Last Wolf
Nae mare tae houl aneath the pale dusk Mune
Nae mare tae treid grein airth unner licht abune
Nae mournfu cry thro thick forests an great glens
Fir ye haed met yir aynd et the hauns o feart men
Nae mare tae sowpe frae the cauld flawin burn
Nae mare tae be sparit frae the huntin man's gun
Nae weel-kent caw soons owre snaw-peakit bens
Fir ye haed met yir aynd et the hauns o feart men
Nae mare tae tak care o yir wee whimperin whelps
Nae mare tae stalk prey in thys laun whaur ye fell
Nae langin lament, nor wet an wyld musky scent
Fir ye haed met yir aynd et the hauns o feart men
Luchóg Bheag
Dia dhuit, a luchóg bhig
Cónaí i do theach
Bail ó Dhia ort, a luchóg bhig
Ag tabhairt aire mhaith ar do d'óg
Owre the Brae
Owre the brae went thon last licht o dusk
Noo daurkness creeps in wi the nicht
Awa gaun thon cloods that coverit blae sky
Staun gazin at a maist magickal an wunnersome sicht
Owre the brae went thon last licht o dusk
Mirkenin maijestie o firmament abune
Revealit noo, the richt brawest o starnie nichts
That gangs alang wi a wee sangbirds feenal e'en tuin
Owre the brae went thon last licht o dusk
Depairtin frae a maist beauteous day
Tae oor bricht Mune glentin proodly owreheid
Mither Airth, in aw her glorie, gie's us aw ae graund display