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The Land of the Standing Stones ©

I had quite forgotten how icy-cold my birthplace could be.
My son lived, but a stones throw from Mither Tap..
I wrote this in my head whilst storming the heights as a Legionaire.

Graham Donachie
Victoria, Canada

The hour is late and the moon is high
and I hear the sound o' a foxís cry.
Hoar frost embraces my shivering self
in this eerie place o' the ancient elf
and I feel fear stealing away my heart
on this silver night as the wind it yarps,
in this cold northland o' the standing stones.

Iíve wandered high upon Bennachie
where the icy blast takes the breath from me,
where the blood of a battle so long ago
laps round my ankles in the crisp white snow
and I fearful listen to the sound o' the dead
who lie far beneath this path I tread,
in this barren land o' the standing stones.

Once in the dawn o' a yesteryear
in the sorrowful drop o' a yestertear,
came the navis longa o' the dark faced men
who left waste and rape in this highland glen
and their eagle standards waved on high
as they marching passed on their way to die,
in this granite land of the standing stones.

Calgacus host stood upon this hill
in defiance of Rome's Imperial will
but their defiance died upon pilum
of Victrix Vexillum,
who carried the day
but left their bones
in this bloody land of the standing stones.

Now the sun has risen ower the sea
and the rays o' morning beckon me,
to forget the past and live in the now,
but I wonder why and I wonder how
they ever had to disappear,
those blue faced men who knew no fear
in my harsh cold land o' the standing stones...

navis longa...................long ship..warship
Victrix Vexillum...........Victorious Standards

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