Loch nan Uamh and Glenfinnan 

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem 

The heathered shapes of Scottish hills loom not

As threatening as the nation’s history, blades

That stab the monarch’s favorite.  Battles fought

Are on the Lowlands fields.  Those hate crusades

Against the Sassenachs are not like hills

Enrobed in whin with coconutty smell.

The slopes are more like Burns, his pretty frills

When writing English verse.  Red roses swell

With sentiment unlike the murder of

Lord Darnley.  Scotland’s braes look gentle in

Her mists more like the lads’ and lassies’ love

When May is oot, a velvet mixed with sin.

  Her bens are beautiful, a bonnie roy

    Come home, a stoniness claicht up with joy.

~ Phillip Whidden

by phillipw | Apr 6, 2025 | BO, CH, SC | 0 comments