Stiff and cold like an old tramp
On a winters day

Seeming to sway with the effort

Of standing and the knowledge

Of not belonging.

Pockmarked and pitted

By poverty and neglect....

Infested with all manner

Of parasites and moulds

Supping on your solitude.

Janet Soutar ©

Balcraggie   

Have you heard of a house?

Balcraggie is its name

It sits among trees in Glenelg

Where the otters live

Of brightwater fame

And the little ferry Glenahulish

Darts back and forth

O'er Kylerhea Narrows

Amongst breathtaking beauty

And wildlife rich in diversity

To the delight of its passengers

Even in the rain.

Anyway to go back to Balcraggie

Donna and Eddie, good people, live there

Along with their son Callum,

A tall lad, full of promise.

At the heart of this house is the kitchen

The atmosphere rich in tolerance

Gentleness and love paper the walls with photographs

And lining the shelves

Are many mementoes

Of journeys into the wilder world

And where the occasional empty wine bottle

Notes music and pleasurable chatter

In the corner a kitchen range

Warms the atmosphere ‘round table and chairs,

From her cooker delicious country lunches,

Are produced by Donna

To be fed to family and friends

And the occasional underdog

Served with dollops of wisdom

And lashings of kindness

As Eddie tells jokes and classical stories

Along with a roll up, he pours the wine

Janet Soutar ©