Come to where heather-strewn meadows lie, and valleys deep with lake-water sigh-- Villages filled with bonny lads and lasses, where church bells ring out to soothe the masses.
Climbing over steep hills of mossy green, watching a rugged horseman gather his team-- Winding down earthen paths of beauty foreseen, where crisp rains fall softly--swift and clean.
Stone cottages built for the sturdy life, flower-boxes under windows settling strife-- Of careworn faces in the kitchens and fields, who bring crops of fruit which generously yield.
It's just a small sample of what I know, about Scotland, its castles, and legends of old-- One day I'll be sailing across the sea, where ancestors' spirits run wild and free !
My husband is of Scottish descent, as is one of my favorite authors, A. J. Cronin, who wrote so lovingly about his homeland. A brief tribute, nonetheless, sincere !