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Mists shroud long fallen
cairns and moors,
Envelop the ravages of castle and croft
Embrace proud Scottish spirits
Who loved homeland and forfeited all
Mists that caress mountain, pine, and sea swept shores
Rise from rushing silver streams and deep blue lochs
Blanket towering cliffs of rock dove nests
Forcing golden eagles to soar above it
Mists that cloak purple heathered hillsides,
Scented with its sweet, spicy perfume
Reminder of Scottish heritage
As the thistle that kept countrymen safe long ago
Mists recalling the skirl of ancient pipes
Pipes once outlawed, but never forgotten
That eternally defined Highland hospitality,
Commemorated ceilidth, wailed tribute to those departed
Hospitality recognized ‘round the world
Pride in homeland and family
Of legend and of heart
A country rising from the mist
May 9, 2002 |
