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Your walking poems.

Re: Your walking poems.

Postby Lightfoot2017 » Sat Jan 16, 2021 11:27 am

Also not mine, but also deserves an airing..

England! Thy beauties are tame and domestic,
To one who has roved o'er mountains afar;
Oh for the crags that are wild and majestic!
The steep drowning glories of dark Lochnagar.

Byron

:clap: :wink: :D
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Re: Your walking poems.

Postby Lightfoot2017 » Sat Jan 16, 2021 1:05 pm

Doh! :roll:

"frowning"...not drowning! :lol:
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Re: Your walking poems.

Postby johnkaysleftleg » Sat Jan 16, 2021 5:20 pm

Sgurr wrote:
penelope1 wrote:Johnkaysleftleg - how lovely and poignant. As we get older it often feels as if the best times are in the past :)


Agreed


Thank you both, most kind.
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Re: Your walking poems.

Postby dav2930 » Sat Jan 16, 2021 6:00 pm

Lightfoot2017 wrote:Also not mine, but also deserves an airing..

England! Thy beauties are tame and domestic,
To one who has roved o'er mountains afar;
Oh for the crags that are wild and majestic!
The steep drowning glories of dark Lochnagar.

Byron

:clap: :wink: :D

Nice poem, but Byron had obviously never seen the frowning glories of Scafell Crag or Pillar Rock!

There was a young poet named Byron,
Who England's crags had never set eyes on;
He thought they were slight
Against Lochnagar's might,
But Scafell he would have found awesome.
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Re: Your walking poems.

Postby Tinto63 » Sun Jan 17, 2021 5:34 pm

In the past, particularly in my mid to late 50s, when I was particularly demotivated, I used to sit at work and write (bad) poetry, I've recently rediscovered 30 or 40 pages of it in an old briefcase, hopefully most will not see the light of day but this might be appreciated:


Tinto

Friendly, rounded
Set apart
Prim, lumpish
Spinster?
Without malice
And popular
Well kent, loved even

Your slopes draw me
Seduced,
Even in winter
To a snatched afternoon
Then satisfied
When your icy red rocks
Scrunch underfoot

I had dated this 15/02/01

But the poem that seems most apt to my present time is Rupert Strong's

A Matter of Time

How I would love
to be walking on and on
up the hill
with increased vigour
my face in the sun,
with full strength,
gaining ground.
But I have passed my zenith,
and every step
tails towards the west.

This is from an anthology of hill poems called Speak to the Hills edited by Hamish Brown and Martyn Berry, published by Aberdeen University Press in 1985, I'm sure many of you have a copy, but if not it is well worth seeking it out online, there appears to be copies available at reasonable prices.
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Re: Your walking poems.

Postby Hillbeback » Sun Jan 17, 2021 8:54 pm

Here's one l came across while l try to compose one.

ON THE HILL, by William Soutar.

Oot frae the wud the gowk cries still,
An' the glen hings owre the cairn;
But there is nae hind abune the hill;
Nae stag doun be the burn.

Yet when the hill in a haary drift
Glimmers ahent the gray
The deer will gether atween the lift
An' the bare rigg o' the brae.

A hameless herd wha aince wud spy,
Doun in the carse-lands braw,
The banners o' Scotland flauchter by
An' the buskit buglers blaw.
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Re: Your walking poems.

Postby thedonalds » Sat Jan 23, 2021 12:42 am

The late Jim Reid put music to the words of the Violet Jacob poem 'Rohallian' and since first hearing that many years ago it has stuck in my wee brain when out walking, particularly the last two verses. In case you don't know Rohallion is just across the river from Dunkeld.

Rohallion 
By Violet Jacob

Ma buits are at rest on the midden
I haena a plack;
Ma breeks are no dandy anes, forrit,
And waur at the back;
On the road that comes oot o' the Heilands
I see as I trayvel the airth
Frae the braes at the back o' Rohallion
The reek abune Pairth.

There's a canny wee hoose wi' a gairden
In a neuk o' Strathtay;
Ma mither is bakin' the bannocks,
The weans are at play;
And at gloamin' ma feyther, the shepherd,
Looks doon for a blink o' the licht
When he gethers the yowes at the shieling
Tae fauld them at nicht

There isna a hoose that could haud me
Frae here tae the sea
When a wind frae o' Rohallion
Comes creepin' tae me;
And niver a lowe frae the ingle
Can draw like the trail an' the shine
O' the stars I' the loch o' Rohallion
A fitstep o' mine

There's snaw I' the wind, an' the weepies
Hang deid on the shaw,
An' pale the leaves left on the rowan,
I'm southward awa';
But a voice like a wraith blaws ahint me
And sings as I'm liftin' ma pack,
"I am waitin' -- Rohallion, Rohallion --
Ma lad, ye'll be back

I cant find the Jim Reid version online but here's Jean Redpath
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