Scarecrow Highlander Poem by ArmourQuill Hunter

The glory of this Highlander’s imagination is of great expression
Inspiring a mind to drive itself completely to reflection
A watchman, for the Master’s vineyard, against the unclean ravens
Scary for the black plumage with their croaking cries, not of heaven

Surely he has the angel with the ink-horn by his side, as a guide
Absorbed in the ancient poets, watch as he leads on a magic carpet ride
Tongues of fire, passion of steel, cast upon the brazen wall, for real
If crimes are committed for his run away zeal, imprison his magical quill

Who can resist words of winged-angels, ascribed in gold, on parchments keen
Deep projections of his theme oft’ awaken me from a dreamscape scene
He is statuesque with vocabulary’s imagery, with dynamic demonstrations
Every line, from this Scarecrow’s heart, strikes a rhythmic dart of consolation