‘O, Scotland’ by Clide Abersuwe The Society September 22, 2014 Humor, Poetry “Breathes there a man, with soul so dead, Who never to himself has said, This is my own, my native land.” —Walter Scott I saw this stolid man stand tall, and obviously proud. He wore a bit of blue and white, o, Scotland, strong and stout. He looked like he had been through brawls; he had a brutal face; and yet about his hardened look, he had a touch of grace. I saw it at the edges of his shoulders, arms and back; I saw it in his hungry look, unsatisfied, alack. I saw it in his countenance. I saw it in his stance. Here was a mighty beauty who would neither preen nor prance. His hands akimbo at his waist, his legs out wide and sure. I hoped that he would stay with us. He made me feel secure. Featured Image: “Sir Walter Scott” by John Graham-Gilbert. Related Post ‘The Garden of Life’ and Other Poetry by Satyana... The Garden of Life In wee, assuring spans of sunlit day, The sun awakened, rides his carriage fast To paint with crimson every corner passed, To... Tell the world:FacebookTwitterTumblrPinterestRedditLinkedInEmail Leave a Reply Cancel Reply Your email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email. This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.