Tuesday, 22 May 2012

Ericht's Tale

The lifeblood flowing seaward, reflects on what has been
The life it gave, still gives, along the valley floor
Coursing through the valley, fields and pastures green
Slips slowly past the remnants of those that stand no more

The wheels it turned so proudly now silent as the deep
The lades it filled now flood with moss and vine
The sights it saw, the hemp it wove, the Covenanter’s leap
Consigned to rushing memory, the passages of time

People came in thousands to ply an honest trade
The largest in the country, the first one of its kind
A leader in the field, it shipped its yards of plaid
An industry once vibrant would soon be in decline

Fields moistened by the rivers touch, shoot and burst anew
Vines glistening in colour, fruits ripening and sweet
The pickers came in droves, met up with those they knew
No longer now fields thunder with the sound of foreign feet

The yellow on the bloom brings travellers from afar
To pluck the blossom from the vine in shades of crimson red
And in the morn they awake to a valley sheathed in haar
Whilst the salmon skips it’s merry way along the river bed

Through rolling hills and valleys floors, it weaves its daily thread
Past Standing stones and Pictish thrones, fortresses of Rome
Old mills now dust, silent, one heartbeat now is dead
One stands strong, hope renewed, and the lifeblood carries on.

© Fergus Martin