Best Moray Poems
Why would God give moray eels
A life wherein they live concealed
In a beautiful, bountiful, rapturous reef
Merely to cause the nearby fishes grief?
When the moon and stars shine deep at night
Giving profiles to fishes in background light,
The morays watch and wantonly wait
Until their prey cannot escape.
Are morays just spokes in God’s wild wheel?
Do moray’s consciences not guilt feel?
What is their purpose? What is their ploy?
Is it just to consume those they destroy?
Where is their justice? Where is their joy?
What gives morays the right to annoy
Nearby fishes and affect their fates
While they wantonly lay in wait?
Why would God create such evil creatures
When others’ fates fear their cruel nature?
And why keep morays in ravishing reefs?
Do these evil eels provide the reefs relief?
Is a mindless moray like an inane man
Who bends people’s mores when he can
To languish their lives and besmirch their souls
Just to achieve his iniquitous goals?
Findlater Castle overlooks the Moray Firth
In Scotland's north, situated on a quartz perch
Norse named, fyn leitr
The white cliff, for King Alexander
1246 historical note
In the books of the past
Historians quote
Built to deter an attack from the north
From Norway's, King Haakon the IV
Viking marauder, plunderer of Scots
Perishing's of both, after they fought
The Castle that stands
In the year 2009
History in its fading walls
Stand the test of time
To the Mullery family
Who breathed the air
Around the history and memories there
In its Aura, they have shared
" A short poem dedicated to Patrick my colleague
whose daughter was totally taken by their visit to Findlater Castle "
My Grandkids had a sleep over with me
we had such fun colouring and drawing
they are so delightful and lovely boys
we watched Nat geo wild a while
They were fascinated seeing the animals
loved watching the Osprey feeding his chicks
ten fish a day he had to catch to feed them all
Ryan said what a busy bird but he kept one for himself
This morning we watched the Moray eels
as they swam around the wrecked ship
and a rare sight of them courting so gently
and saw the little Elvers swim away to sea
Means I was not able to write last night
or even to comment on others poems
at two, five and six they kept me very busy
soon they will go home with my daughter
They asked can we sleep over again nana
we really like it at your home it's so fun
bless their little souls so innocent still
they brought much joy and happiness
I will feel rather blue when their mum
comes to take them back home
the house will seem so empty
without their laughter echoing
In a short time, you will be my executioner.
Your actions shall be considered a favor.
You say to me “Lady, please forgive me”.
I, Mary Stuart, am grateful for your sympathy.
You are putting me out of my misery.
It was purely by providential chance,
that I should rule both Scotland and France.
My first bout with misfortune was the scene
where my French king husband Francois died at sixteen.
I would return to my native Scotland right away.
I faced subjection by my half-brother Earl of Moray.
James Stewart and John Knox scorned my presence.
Peace between Protestants and Catholics found no permanence.
With this problem, I became heavily involved.
During my reign, practically nothing could be solved.
My cousin Elizabeth has been a thorn in my side.
Her disdain and disfavor she chooses not to hide.
Elizabeth proposed with blatant effrontery,
that I marry the Earl of Leicester, Robert Dudley.
Such a marriage would bring an English-Scottish alliance.
I would have been a fool to submit to compliance.
My marriage to my cousin was out of defiance.
I thought I could love Henry, Lord Darnley.
However, Henry’s actions became a liability.
He helped kill one of the noblest men I would know.
Scottish Lords conspired to murder David Rizzio.
During my reign, troubles compounded all the while.
Soon I found myself a ruler without a nation.
Adversaries forced me to agree to abdication.
I would be placed into imprisonment during exile.
My involvement in the Babington Plot is the reason
why I am being executed for high treason.
Please let your blow be both swift and clean.
It shall release me from this ignominious scene.
I wanted England and Scotland to live in harmony.
May I be remembered this way throughout history.
Mary's son, James VI of Scotland eventually became King James I of a united England and Scotland.
AN INDEPENDENT SCOTLAND? (Or, Beware The English)
by Damian on June 15, 2014. © Damian Cranney, All rights reserved
An independent Scotland,
That will do just fine,
We no longer have to listen
To the Scots familiar line.
Whatever woe that Land has had,
Is laid at Englands Door,
But if you analyse the truth,
We’re being blamed, what for?
More Scotsmen have been killed by Scots,
That’s no lie,
William Wallace, his history,
Perverted by Gibson, did die.
Betrayed by the Bruce,
Who took the crown at Scone,
After killing, John Comyn,
Who had the right, to the throne.
What about, the bonnie brave lads,
Abandoned at Culloden,
With empty bellies, and broken hearts,
Their prince they saw depart.
A third of those they faced were Scots,
Some Irish and some German,
Cumberland, commanded,
Officers were usually called , Campbell or Urquart.
Clan rivalry has a lot to answer,
Especially at Glencoe,
The Campbells and Macdonalds
Considered each a foe.
But Macdonald was polite to guests.
Who’d disturbed him from his bed,
With instructions to arrest him,
The Campbells killed them all instead
The clearances took place,
Run by, local Scottish factors,
Employed by landlords who were Scots,
Not English detractors.
The worst one of all
Was a lawyer born in Moray,
Patrick Sellar, was his name,
And it’s Scotland he put to shame.
Scotland was a barren place,
For crofters of that, stoic race,
That is why they fled the land,
And yes it was a big disgrace.
But if the bleak and wild terrain
Proved hard their families to maintain,
Why is an Englishman to blame,
When foreign soil can’t, life, sustain.
Before we joined together,
In unhappy unity,
Our security was always threatened,
By our old north enemy.
Whoever hated England,
Found a friend and ally there,
The answer was the union,
In which we both can share.
Make no mistake security
Was why we joined together,
If Scotland is a foreign state,
It could be viewed as an open gate.
The natural progression will be,
Border controls for you and me,
On a personal note I’ll stop the scotch,
My favour will be, for Irish whiskey
THE COLD CLING OF SPRING
Pretty petals ferociously fall as Spring releases its fury.
Blooming cherry blossoms in disarray, decry a disaster.
Rosebuds refuse to unfurl like a flummoxed fist of stubbornness.
Like moray eels, the moss morphs into a menacing hue,
as blackened clouds crowd out the signs of light and life.
The wind in winey whisper, wallows and whips up, into meringue swells.
Pathological pines, with nesting nettles, fly through worried windows,
and ornery oaks uncork an unholy battle for the braveheart to lose.
Voracious ivy vines, unwind, wrap up a horrified house like a ghastly gift.
Teeny tiny eyes in buried basements hearken to the howl of the harried storm.
Sheltered shells of confusion, await the arrival of calm and catastrophe.
Flash of a fresh new day, finds friends hugging, holding hands, waxing wings
of action, surveying the skies, the smiling sun, the warmth
of Winter’s waning and Spring’s taming. Yet the cold clings
to the forest of ferns and forget-me-nots, fretting at mocking skies,
mottled in chaotic cataclysmic chokehold like weary wrestlers.
When will this season settle down? Dreary and drowning in snow and rain.
Disdain on bushy brows. Parasols on parade in perpetual mourning frown.
Still evergreen buds, buddy up to branches, and dot-to-dot blossoms
appear amidst a washed out willow slowly sipping sanguine revelry.
3/27/2018
Silent One’s Alliteration Contest
turning tide
with dolphins frolicking -
children watch in awe
So sailed they then o'er seas well spent~
Torn their skys & mastheads back bent~
Under their bowsprits well to a'sea~
From ravages o'wind did'st they then flee~
Down from their bulwarks & under their keels~
Sharks & Dorados & green Moray eels~
Mermaids a'singin' shantys o'love~
Sailin' a'sunder moon black above~
Marseilles & Gibraltar they sailed all a'tune~
Meldemi & Cyclones & greatest Typhoon~
Thallasa & Caribbean with Sargasso a'drift~
Sails o'wind & bows so swift~
Madagascar & Seychelles then great Horn~
O'seas o'which all tales ayre born~
Azorians Atlantians e'er so wanderin'~
Ocean's depths naught fer a'ponderin'~
Equator thus crossed once & then twice~
Tropic o'Cancer & towerin' white ice~
Gales blown wildly o'Cape Verde's storms~
Life's blood then o'ethereal forms~
Down down down did'st they go~
Sailors o'seas when winds did'st so blow~
Round 'round 'round & about~
Ships & sailors verily so stout~
Cliffs o'Dover & Isle o'Man~
Fjords o'Vikings so 'twas a'plan~
Off then across blue wide & deep~
They to themselves a promise to keep~
Ne'er again seen were those hands~
O'ships then so sailed a'far distant lands~
Sails black & torn o'hell bent~
Hulls a'twisted & minds well spent~
Under they went to bottom at last~
Down deep steps & into cold past~
Sailors all & lives o'great deed~
Years so destined o'hearts in such need~
SeaWolf
©
Little Lilly wanted to go, to the playground, to have some fun the other day.
And all the other Trolls wanted to tag along, for it looked like fun, they said.
So we went at dusk, for our first try, so no wee ones, would be anywhere near.
For you know, Trolls can play pretty hard, and I didn’t know, just what to fear.
I quickly found a bench as home base, for those who needed to have a time out.
Anyone who couldn’t play gently, or broke anything, found they’d get the rout.
First the sandbox became a deep, dark hole, from which to pop up, to scare, thereat.
Of course, dodge ball became club ball, so you can guess what happened with that.
King of the Hill was a really big thing, since they are all, the most territorial, by half.
Surprisingly, the slide was all-OK, but trouble came from underneath, as they laughed.
They wanted to exact a toll, of course, in the middle, as you passed above, quite brief.
The merry-go-round made them dizzy, knocking everyone down, in a domino motif.
The Seesaws became a great big catapult… to the other far side of the playground.
The monkey bars! Well, they aren’t monkeys, that’s for darned certain, I expound!
They tripped, fell, and smacked themselves senseless with no ones’ help, I ensure.
It could’ve been climbed much better, if not covered in so much drool, I’m sure.
Swings became broken as they pushed the others, all the way to the moon, oops!
And basketball became a slam-dunk, as unfortunately they didn’t fit in the hoops.
Hop Scotch took coordination, and you have to be able to wait your turn, too…
So, as in tag, they started bumping and fighting, until becoming a crazy piled up dado.
Races started more fights as all wanted to win, and threw everyone out of their way!
Hearing a laugh, I turned around to see Grandpa Troll, was ready to stop the moray.
He stood near the bench, as I stood looking up, amazedly, at what they had done.
Now, there were other benches everywhere, but they were piled high, on a single one.
I’ll never truly understand the brain of a Troll, for them a playground’s just not fun.
And they don’t play gently, and are bigger, than our wee folk, as I had already known.
They spent the night, putting things to right, even better than before they’d been broke.
And I finally took them home, to find OTHER things, designed especially, for OUR folk.
a massive coral reef just off the shore
of a tiny island in the South Pacific
a tropical reef filled with sea life galore
breathtaking and stunningly majestic
like an enormous rainforest on the sea floor
rare kaleidoscope of colorful sea creatures
a fishdom of seldom seen underwater life
even a crevice hiding a notorious moray eel
a reef so magnificent, an oceanic cathedral
a community of sea life in a grand display
exotic swimmers in an oceanic aquarium
gracing the reef with healthy marine life
offering much for visitors to that domain
begs it be respected and kept pristine
this grandiose basilica of the blue sea
surface floaters unable to dive appear
like bobbing corks on a fishing pole line
static observers, yet witnesses to divine creation
while skilled divers invade the watery nation
the abode of sea inhabitants extraordinaire
a face goggle view has its rewards
though surface viewers covet those of
the divers who can fathom the deep
viewing the ocean floor’s beauty mark
a kingdom of oceanic life of divine art
surface views are provided with small
portions of the reef freshly harvested
but a rare experience is squandered
because of the inability to dive deep
a lack borne with shame and regret
those who dive deep gain profoundly
by interacting with the life of that watery den
while those fear of depths are deprived
as others dive and find rich treasures
that the surface viewer never discovers
being a surface viewer can be humiliating
causing awareness of one’s shortcomings
taking what others gained at great effort
with risks that only success could unfold
gracing the lesser with hard-earned gold
Look under the surface of the ocean
fat cucumbers lazily stirring amidst
vast reefs of multicoloured coral
hermit crabs scuttling to the next rock
Shoals of tiny fish darting in and out
the shadow of the hunting shark
a star fish drifts on the tide's turn
sharp spines of the urchin await
ready to spike unwary bare feet
the inky jet of a disturbed squid
Wondrous formations abound
covered with oysters and clams
arches too small for us to follow
beware of the moray eels lurking
what fascinating wonders are displayed
as you watch another almost alien world
On holiday on Scotland's Moray Firth
spent time at SDC at Spey bay
that's the Scottish Dolphin centre
whose vision's for there safety from all prey
Risso's Dolphins born grey seen during summer
love to eat squid identified by scratches white
bottlenose Dolphins really active and boisterous
playful things as they throw fish into flight
Common Dolphins so fast and lithe
having hour glass pattern on their side
white-beaked Dolphins move north as temps rise
identified by white saddle mark as they glide
Atlantic white-sided Dolphins prefer cold waters
but they're see by west coast in summer time
that's just a short profile of these creatures
that swim on Moray's coast in natural rhyme
It's a special moment to see such creatures
which wasn't my blessing while I was there
but these wonderful Dolphins deserve protection
all part of God's creation made for all to share
(Having spent week on holiday recently up in North of Scotland on Moray Firth and highlight to visit the Scottish Dolphin Centre, learning about the great work they do.
Any one interested to know more see the website link http://uk.whales.org/ )
“700”
We stood upon a windy hill
The sky a greying growling mass
Amid a motely gathering
Of Knights and weathered fighters
Warriors old who stood wi Wallace
And led by Moray,s standard.
They wept when both had passed
Now ready at The Bruce,s side.
Hearts filled with nationalistic pride
They brought their tools of trade
Sickles and hammers alongside
Swords and pikes and targes
To fight and die glorious nameless
For the taste of freedoms wine.
The cry of freedom echoes
From village to distant hill
As The Bruce roars out a command
Raising the sword from Wallaces hand
Towards the massed ranks of heavy horse
Floundering in scotia,s mud
The burn it flows on turned red
With warriors life and blood.
...................................
Seven hundred years have flown
And as we stand again upon a hill
A choice has to be made
Whether to grow and flourish
To stay under anothers hand
Once again the banners fly
Under a greying, growling sky.
(to commemerate the 700th anniversary of Scotlands fight to be a kingdom)
Steve loves mountaineering, he was the first,
Visually impaired person to climb El Capitan,
Solo, and there he met Karen Darke, cyclist,
Who got him into para-cycling ‘cos it had can.
“Climbing is something I really love, so I hope
[I] never have to give it up. I’m certainly going
to make the most of it while I can. I just hope
it helps to inspire [disabled people],” adding,
“to believe that anything is possible if they set
their minds to it. If I can do it, [then] anyone can.”
Steve is a total sportsman, who loves to get
Challenged, and he feels met by the bike klan.
He was born in New Zealand but is a Scot today,
Is from Moray with ailment Retinitus Pigmentosa.
He trains in Manchester with pilot Adam Duggleby,
And went down a bomb at Rio, from others’ faster.
For the Individual Pursuit B he secured the gold,
And likewise in the Road Time Trial B, gold medal,
Outside in the Road Race B he stuck in to hold,
Onto a podium placement giving a bronze pedal.
[An offering for fans of Dean Martin... or not. More or
less to the tune of ‘That’s Amore’ (not the ‘In Napoli’ bit),
this is the cleaned up version of an unprintable original.
In UK ‘Old Fellow’ is a euphemism for... let’s just call it
man’s best friend.]
***
Big long fish in the sea
Eight foot long and wriggly
That's a Moray
Well I pooped in my trunks
It was biting off chunks
That's a Moray
First it bit my thing
My ding a ling a ling
People on the scene
Heard me bellow
This big fish just bit me
And it swam away with my old fellow
Then I heard someone squeal
That big fish was an eel
That's a Moray
Then they bought me a skirt
To conceal where I hurt
Fair enough
Well, I gave it a whirl
Living life as a girl
But no more, eh?
’Cause I went down the pub
For a flirt and some grub
That’s amore
See , this bloke wandered by
With that look in his eye
That’s amore
He said hey babe what’s yours
Slipped his hand down my drawers
That’s amore?
But he felt quite a chump
As he fondled my stump
End of soirée
Had a tear in my eye
At his hasty bye bye
That’s amore
I learned electronics
Made some bionic bits
That’s amore
Ladies squeal with delight
When I ‘stay up’ all night
They’re in love
And they all ask of me
Is that whole thing for me
That’s...
A Moray
But I’ll write nothing more
As I think this has gone...
...Far enough.