My Heart is Caerlaverock,
a fortress of red brick. A place to keep love safe. Home of sky lark, oak, iris and thistle. Warand from sea attack by swollen slush (marsh) and divee dagger thickets of wild holly. Nae lusty brak scheip shall break my steadfast under seige, withstanding skeeled sarious knight and army too. Trading sides when prudent, perhaps, yet always ardent in true allegiance.
Shall the walls be torn down for the better good and a purse? Yae, then build them up and defend again, again!
Best remain as relic.. fortress no more, so many missing stones, crumbled ashlar (masonray) within without and moat fallen tower. The better for lack of all amenity, long ago stolen or decayed, everything of comfort gone, as such imperviuos, no future attack may ever suceed save time itself.. rendered futile all aggress, self declared renaig remnant may only stand in awe, ere marvelous Nithsdale apartment, ye canna iver intrude these halls again, ye may declare beyond my outer walls, declare false pretense, declare against, my vestige ontynt heart forever secure .. aye if only flesh were stone.
(work in progress)
Relic at Caerlaverock drawn by D. Roberts
Scotts Translation:
brak ~ salty
canna ~ can not
iver ~ ever
lusty ~ gallant
ontynt ~ not lost
remnant ~ Covenanter
sarious ~ serious
scheip ~ ship
skeeled ~ skilled
slush ~ marsh
warand ~ protected
here readers can see ‘the mind’ in slow action as I labour over this poem .. it may take another day or week or year before I might declare it no longer a work in progress.. stay tunned if you like.