Glad to be at rest from a journey's fears and a sister's welcome after twenty years. Though only five miles from Lairg's town in Anna's home I laid a weary head down.
No sooner had my eyelids shut out the day's last beam when I fell into a sleep that brought about the dream. Brought about a dream I say that surely was much more yet how was I to know when I answered that front door. When I opened it I was overwhelmed by an ocean of plaid, and standing proud before the clans stood a gypsy maid. My dream almost took on reality as I stood there aghast for surely all those people belonged in Scotland's past! This beauty of a gypsy girl declared "My dear bonny man we come for you as the last of the living MacIntosh clan, Prince Charlie's at Culloden Field with many an entourage he needs you there today to lead the first home charge!" She handed me a bunch of heather tied with a tarten bow "Plant this at Culloden and with it our future will grow!" With these words she faded so from my dream I awoke yet hauntingly in my waking I heard the words she spoke. Shivering uncontrollably from that bed of dreams I arose just as I did I swear I heard the front door softly close! When I went downstairs I stood trembling there in the hall for with misty sleep now gone those words I could recall. As I stood with eyes agape I felt my Scot's blood gather lying there in tarten ribbon sat that bouquet of heather!]
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Posted: Jun 2009
About this poem:
Lairg is in the county of Sutherland in the northern highlands of Scotland. And by the way, the story is true:-)
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