Caraid - Poem by Littlewing28 EstherP
On the Crest of a hill of primeval green
Fly's the flags of a Scotsman's personal dream
Surrounded by relics, of authors source
Of days gone by, Cheyenne's white horse
A display of feathers adorns the wall
Connected to Red Indian words recalled
That all things share the same breath on earth
A rose rock from the blood and tears
The great white spirit, wings of air.
A medley of Gothic clutters the table
A narrative is offered to explain the fable
You find yourself adding to it, your own parable.
With panache he explains the journeys birth
With feeling, with thought, full of mirth
His eyes alight, words displayed and flayed
Entertaining our thoughts, a marvel crusade
Like a well rehearsed play from an actor's line
He portrays a warrior from ancient times.
And dressed he is in plaited kilt
Professing soundly of jacobite roots
Passionate, whimsical, a variable flute
Up goes his hand shouting 'Up yer Kilts! '
With laughter and ease I'm captured, entranced
By my friend I call Cavey
Our Amusing brave heart
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