Lock Lomond
Upon yon banks where heather waves so fair,
In Scotland's heart, a gem beyond compare,
Loch Lomond lies, embraced by hills and glen,
A sonnet's tale, where verses oft begin.
Beneath the sky, with hues of Highland blue,
Ben Lomond stands, a guardian true,
Its rugged peak, in morning's rosy light,
A Highland symphony, a breathtaking sight.
Thy waters mirror tales of ancient lore,
In every ripple, echoes gone before,
Bonnie boats, with sails unfurling wide,
Glide 'neath the thistle's nod, with Highland pride.
As twilight falls, and stars begin to gleam,
Loch Lomond dreams its own enchanting theme,
A piper's mournful tune upon the breeze,
Weaves through the glen, beneath the ancient trees.
Oh, bracken shores, where history is spun,
Of battles fought and victories hard-won,
In verse, this sonnet finds its way,
To Loch Lomond, where Highland spirits play.
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