Feb 2014
Old stones weep in the rain
their darkling gaze unblinking
Glowering with ancient pain
of distant glories thinking
Preening Lords arrogant in imagined might
would quail could they perceive
The majesty of osprey flight
True rulers still of Threave
their darkling gaze unblinking
Glowering with ancient pain
of distant glories thinking
Preening Lords arrogant in imagined might
would quail could they perceive
The majesty of osprey flight
True rulers still of Threave
Written two years ago after a dreamy day at Threave Castle viewing a Welsh osprey who moved to Scotland (via Africa)
