I will stand in the heather,
I will stand in the glen,
I'll defend my Bannockburn,
With horse, pike and men.
As Bruce I command,
As Robert I will die,
But not on this day,
For English souls rise to the sky.
Remove them I will,
Send them o'er the hill,
Past Stirling and Falkirk,
Back to England yet still.
As Scots' we are strong,
Edward be damned wrong,
Tae' think he will be victor,
Today he is gone.
Seton gave me the clue,
Schiltron's stood fast and true,
Horsemen and Bowmen,
Fought as they knew,
That Scotland could prove,
It would rule through and through,
Without English invaders,
Marching on my moor.
Many lie dead,
Both English and Brave Scots',
But Edward is gone,
His army bloodied and lost.
Back to their home,
And leave mine tae' me,
At Bannockburn we stood,
And held Victory.
Graham Alexander Devenish
Categories:
bannockburn, courage, history, military, patriotic,
Form: Rhyme
With every Bannockburn there comes a Boyne.
The gods grant grain, alleviate our lives,
then send us weevils, whitefly, worms (and wives!)
They raise us up – then knee us in the groin
vaulting. Winchester was built on bog.
This marvel of the medieval mind
was sitting on (they were appalled to find),
nine hundred-year-old spongy, soggy logs.
And, year on year, it sagged a little more.
As fissures felt their way around the font,
and lancet windows listed to the west,
so flawed at lauds, and worse at terce for sure:
now none at nones was feeling nonchalant.
The church was sinking slowly to its rest.
Categories:
bannockburn, uplifting,
Form: Sonnet