Post by Ailean Glas on Oct 4, 2002 22:31:12 GMT -6
Lochaber is the name of my father's farm,
And its a long way from Scotland, his name was not made there,
Even if the blood comes from Letterfinlay and sweet Glen Nevis,
With an ancestor or two from Clunes; all brave men and highland with charm,
Two great grandparents made the world for me, despite those of other nations,
From beyond the sad years of bitter wars and reluctant migration,
They lasted well in the dry air of Australia beyond their wishes.
So enviroment may form a character or make it vanish,
Still my uncles red hair and welcoming style,
Or my granny's smile, dark dark eyes, and well freckled skin,
Along with dad's eagle eyed reserve but generous courage filled heart,
Just brings back their bloodlines again and again,
In the books we read, both old and new show an inherited strain,
Beyond climate or History a good soul comes through inspiring their children,
Strong and refreshing like mad Summer rains.
Through all the generations, from Victoria's golden age,
To this new millenium rebinding us all to a more catholic stage,
I shall reunite with Lochaber as Australia's loyal son,
Not even half Scotlands child but born to live here with the tribes,
Made from the old celtic and new refugees,
As my children smile at the old highland tales, and tease me away,
Talking of other things in our makeup shaping our days,
Their father too stubborn, and arthritic mind working only when warm,
Just cannot leave a ravishing past behind. I'll not fight for Charlie or cross the sea,
But my hearts with Lochiel in the forty five, even in Melbourne in January,
I'll fight the battles of the wonderful clan,
And real sorrow is there for his fate and his peoples loss,
As I can forget the good things that followed the fiery cross,
Brought across from Cameron to Australian shores,
Flaming the sky it took us here to escape harsh History
And the clansfolk still march on with me, across our lands to the Southern seas,
Through the hills of New Zealand, Nova Scotia, Argentina, Ontario and the Carolinas,
The passion inspiring still lingers, uplifts and defines us,
And Lochaber will always be the name of my father's farm.
Ailean glas na Camshronaich.