Aye and ’tis a bonnie glen
And for us the Laird’s enclave
Dinna fush the soldiers’ menace
‘Tis this moment that He gave.
And we gaither ‘neath the stars
And we tak the wine and bread
And we cleave with benediction
To each Word arr Saviour said.
This is Church
Mind not the dampness
And the laing hike to and fro’
For the Pastor of our choosin’
Meets us here, and helps us grow.
Though he lives just like an ootcast
With a price upon his head
He can still preach Heaven doon t’us
And we treasure all he said.
Sure ’tis hard times we endure
For the One King of our Kirk
Jesus, here, atop this hillside
And His glorious finished work.
And a lark flits kindly by us
And a sheep bleats out content
And we learn through sterling sufferin’
What the hunted Psalmist meant.
Hebrews 11: 38
(well spoken of the Scottish Covenanters of the mid 1600's)
Categories:
covenanters, christian, history,
Form: Pastoral
I'm still here.
Don't let my age fool you,
The troopers said I caused the nation trouble...
Which nation ?
Just Scotland ?
Nae...
All those who run from the Truth that eats them inside.
The killing times continue...
Trying to bury the Way,
But they don't know it just becomes a seed
That grows without work
And thrives in opposition.
You can't hang the Life into the past
My head still thinks
My hands still work
Beyond the Edinburgh grass market
Beyond the Covenanters influence,
Look over your shoulder
I'm still here.
James Renwick, minister, hung at the Edinburgh grass market in 1688 for his faith, aged 26. When the troopers found him, they said "is this young man the one causing the nation so much trouble" ?. They were called "the killing times" in Scotland. They cut off his head and hands and put them on the gates of the city. He is still here.
Categories:
covenanters, spiritual,
Form: Free verse
This is an interesting question
born in city of Glasgow
moved at 6 weeks to Ayrshire
then 1990 to Renfrew I go
So where is my home?
being brought up in Ayrshire
my formative years are there
so memories are ever on fire
Now based in Renfrew
a small quiet town
once home to a airport
now no planes come down
So Scotland is my nation
born and brought up in this land
here the covenanters braved the foe
till death they did stand
poetgord@2013
Categories:
covenanters, life,
Form: Rhyme