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Graham Donachie's Stories
In Pictland


On a dark wet night in a Northeast Glen,
Crouched a wild, wild host of the Painted men,
In the lea of the storm, on the slopes of the Ben....
In Pictland.....

Oh cruel was the wynd in that boggy place,
And fierce was the look on that Pictish face,
So proud was the heart of that Pagan race....
In Pictland....

They had come to the call, for the love of the Fight,
They had danced to the Drum 'til the dark Mid-night,
Now they stood with the sword in the dawn of the light....
In Pictland....

Through the mist of the Morn on that heathery Muir,
The Enemy saw them so proud and so sure,
Heard them scream, Pagan war cries, so wild and so pure....
In Pictland....

And now when the Lust for the Blood was strong,
When the foe must pay for his doing of wrong,
And the day would be won by this mighty throng....
In Pictland....

In a wild green Land so far from Rome,
A Horseman sat with thoughts of  Home,
Had he sailed so far across the Foam....to die....?
In Pictland....

He yearned for the land of the olive and grape
Of the oil scented body and the sensuous shape,
Not this War, nor this harsh, not this awful Rape....
Of Pictland....

But his Lord had commanded and so must He,
Do battle with the men of this strange Countrie,
And if he must die, then so it must be ....
In Pictland....

His men stood steady this battle to win,
From across the plain could they hear the din,
And the wild war screams from the Hellish Kin....
Of Pictland....

So the Battle was joined and the Blood was shed,
And the Gods were appeased by the men who bled,
And those who followed and those who led....died....
In Pictland....

Proud were the Victors on that day,
Their Eagle Standards in bold array,
And the rule of Rome, now held Sway...
In Pictland....

No learned man to write the fame,
Of the Painted man or his Northeast Hame,
Of who he was, or from whence he came ....
To Pictland.....

But in the Gloaming of a Day,
Two thousand years from that Affray,
On the Northern bank of the River Tay...I stood once more...
In Pictland....

No strange Land, this place to me,
No strange coast this Northern Sea,
Išve come Hame, my place to be......
In Pictland....


Read other stories from Graham Donachie