The time and date is:
3:33 pm Tuesday, 27 October 2020
* Home

* Ballads
* Ballad Features
* Burns
* McGonagall
* Other Poetry
* Scottish Writers
* Scots Glossary

* Alphabetical List
* Featured List

* List of Topics

* Scottish Songs
* Modern Songs

* Submit a Poem
* Submit a Song

* Copyright
* Permission
* Privacy
* Standards

Web Links
* Other Sites

* About Us
* E-mail Us

The Kilted Shawl ©

Patrick McDonagh
Merrimack, NH, USA

The glens sweep down to the lough
as a maid takes rest upon a rock
upon her shoulder her kilted shawl
she listens to a sweet bird call.

Upon the lough the sun shines bright
as the blackbird soon takes up flight
life to her is no more a waste
as the warm breeze touches her face.

She thinks to her days of old
as a child so hungry and cold
but those days are now no more
no eviction comes to her door.

Warm is the water so gentle and clear
she bathes her feet watching the deer
sheep and goats do gently graze
as by the lough she does laze.

Up she stands as the evening comes
drying her feet as she gently hums
strolling along to her home so near
she lilts a song so gentle to hear.

Now as the night does gently fall
no more the sweet bird makes her call
the lough is still in the dead of night
but will glow again in the morning bright.

Web Site by IT-SERVE © 1999 - 2020 All Rights Reserved Return to top