Majestic, barren, rock-cropped braes ascend—
Arrayed, green-clad, in heather, gorse, and fern—
As mid-day, misty, dark’ning clouds descend
To cold-embrace each soaring tor and burn.
From heights unseen a torrent cascades free,
Unfettered into deep Ben Nevis’ glen;
Then onwards toward Loch Linnhe and the sea,
Through sodden bog and brackened, stone-strewn fen.
Though hidden from the eyes of those below,
Ben Nevis’ surly brow is sought and found
By those who brave the rain, the sleet, and snow,
To scale the cairn that marks its highest ground.
And there, amidst the cloud, God reaches down
To touch and bless fair Scotland’s Highland crown.
brae=steep hillside
tor=rocky peak
burn=hillside stream
This sonnet is one of a set of five sonnets written while traveling through Ireland and Scotland in June 2019. This sonnet was inspired by my climb to the snowy summit of Ben Nevis, the tallest mountain in the British Isles. The poem is included in my book, "Mostly Sonnets," published by Dunecrest Press and available for sale on Amazon.com.
Categories:
braes, beauty, god, mountains, nature,
Form: Sonnet
Above the brightening vale in sun reborn
The barrow braes are clothed as we behold
Amid green pines the gorse and broom adorn
With blossoms swathing heath in cloth of gold
Below: the tarn’s once dark and baleful mien
Is now transformed with shining silver face
Neath damsel sapphire jewels in flickering gleam
Margined by a garland amber bracken lace
Now Nature flags the sign to all its kin
No longer to hold back its life elan
But flourish without caution and begin
The annual great cycle - sacred plan
Reach of present strife-thrown shadows on our days
Shall be as life’s great rhythms: passing phase
Categories:
braes, nature,
Form: Sonnet
Surely a country with it beauty is it wealth
Come visit not just the big city but it towns
Once you see the rustic charms they'll give
Take a tour through hills yon mighty glens
Life shouldn't be all bustle and strife relax
Awhile, visit the Isles, take a walk up braes
Nothing will fill your lungs like the fresh air
Depart noo oan yir journey have yir holiday
Categories:
braes, beautiful, beauty, holiday,
Form: Acrostic
Being a Scot I can be a little biased
but I have been here all of my days
at first hand, I've seen this land total
having walked over many banks and braes
Scotland by its occupants seem drab
tending not to appreciate it's glory
but when the sun shines over its land
brings out a rather different story
Even when the winter chill bites
there's a lovely stillness in the air
makes one stop to take it all in
planting desires for all to share
One sees trees and greenery abound
so beautiful and majestic to the eye
raises one's outlook on such a scene
those wooden bushes so very high
Scotland summers can be inconsistent
unsure of what the good Lord will send
but springs usually are fresh and bright
enough to gladen winter hearts as a friend
Scotland has so much to offer
among its rivers, mountains and glens
come and see for yourself such grandeur
sure you'll want to come back again
Categories:
braes, beautiful, home, magic,
Form: Rhyme
A angry sky, as cauld as Loch Lomon'
fair drew me out from cot o' peat, an' bed.
The wolves wus wailin', an' thund'r respond'd
Ah gather'd tam, me tartan, an' dug Red.
To 'orse ah took an' found the 'erd sam 'urt.
The 'ungry wolves 'ad already fed.
Inta the bi'er blaw, the rill ah skirt
thro braes a white, t'ward ham an' fire burnin'
the bleatin' sheep, the 'orse an' ah alert.
We wud mak it hame, stomaches churnin'
O smell the peat fire on the wild wind now,
'ear the cows faint distant ca', a lowin'
'erself wud know, we'r near ta the brow.
Noo, we 'ad beat the storm hame, an' kep' me vow.
Dedicated to Jimbo Goff & James Fraser
and the spirit of Robin Burns
See About the Poem
Categories:
braes, absence, culture, faith, farm,
Form: Terza Rima
Ye ancient land O’ bonnie hue
A bonnie haze on lochs of black
Divide the colour, take me back
To wash my eyes with Fall, imbue
The highlands with a McCulloch hand
Take me back to Autumnland
Softly, softly toes on glens
I trod the braes the peaceful host
The quiescent land of Wallace’s ghost
Once horror valleys shroud in the ben
A witness to yon fallen clans
Take me back to Autumnland
A rugged Skye of misty chill
A blanket cloud a calming bourne
From the mystic sea in gloam and morn
To a hazel lass in tartan twill
Proverbially by the shore she stands
Oh take me back to Autumnland
Oh let me freely stray the moors
Wind the strath of Gaelic roams
Before the low road takes me home
Still and steep in treasured lore
Aye take me back to Autumnland
Take me back to Scotland
Categories:
braes, natureme, me,
Form: Rhyme
The Haggis lives a solitary life
On mountainsides and braes
Foraging, for slugs and snails
Is how he spends his days
But come the rutting season
A change in him you’ll find
He’ll go out searching, high and low
For others of his kind
His plumage changes colour
From brown to scarlet red
A pair of tree like antlers
He sports upon his head
Then if a female he should sense
On hind legs, at full height
Lets out his raucous mating call
In the Scottish summer night
The pair perform their mating dance
In amongst the heather
Then when the dance is over
Go at it, hell for leather
In just six weeks the brood is born
And unlike any other
They suckle at their fathers breast
And not that of the mother
When the weaning’s over
They’ll go their separate ways
Foraging for slugs and snails
On the mountains and the braes
If you find yourself in Scotland
And you hear a raucous cry
Still your heart, be not afraid
Tis just the Haggii
© 22-01-2009
Categories:
braes, animals, fantasy, children, funny
Form: Light Verse
As the wind rolls cold of the mountain plain
As the Hindu Kush rises like skyscrapers to Gods name
But these are not my mountains and the wind is not the same
So as my plane takes off im glad im headed hame
Back to the lowlands of the South and the Highlands of the North
Those crystal clear burns lochs and mountain streams
Back to the braes and the bens and the fresh mountain snow
Back to where the thistle and the heather grow
So who is proud to be Scottish? well that would be me
And what does Alba need? She needs to be free
So people rise up against centuries of tyranny
As a unified people chant were free
Categories:
braes, nature, passion, people, people,
Form: I do not know?