Showing posts from April, 2013

The Sunday posts 2013/ Always Marry An April Girl

Praise the spells and bless the charms,
I found April in my arms.
April golden, April cloudy,
Gracious, cruel, tender, rowdy;
April soft in flowered languor,
April cold with sudden anger,
Ever changing, ever true --
I love April, I love you.

Ogden Nash
Photo by Alistair.
Happy Anniversary Sweetheart.

The Sunday Posts 2013/April Rain Song

Let the rain kiss you
Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops
Let the rain sing you a lullaby
The rain makes still pools on the sidewalk
The rain makes running pools in the gutter
The rain plays a little sleep song on our roof at night
And I love the rain.      

Langston Hughes
Photo by Alistair.

16th April 1746. Culloden Moor and Isobel Haldane

     Flag of The Appin Stewarts

Today is the anniversary of the battle of Culloden, the last battle of the Jacobite rebellion of 1745 and the last battle ever fought in mainland Britain.  It was defeat here that sent Bonnie Prince Charlie to the heather, to the bottle and to romantic {and unwarranted} immortality. My family, Clan Robertson or Donnachie in Gaelic, fought on the side of the Jacobites, charged across Culloden Moor with the others and like them were torn to shreds in front of the redcoat ranks. The clan chief, Alexander, was the only Chief to lead his clan to fight in all three of the uprisings. Since in Gaelic Alexander is Alistair, we share the same name.

The Highland charge, a tactic best used in surprise and with the terrain in your favour was woefully inadequate for the flat moor of Culloden, against effective artillery and the massed ranks of redcoats armed with a devastating new tactic to repel just such an occurence. The result was tragedy. The ancient clan syst…

The sunday Posts 2013/Barter

Life has loveliness to sell,
All beautiful and splendid things,
Blue waves whitened on a cliff,
Soaring fire that sways and sings,
And children's faces looking up
Holding wonder like a cup.

Life has loveliness to sell,
Music like a curve of gold,
Scent of pine trees in the rain,
Eyes that love you, arms that hold,
And for your spirit's still delight,
Holy thoughts that star the night.

Spend all you have for loveliness,
Buy it and never count the cost;
For one white singing hour of peace
Count many a year of strife well lost,
And for a breath of ecstasy
Give all you have been, or could be.

Sara Teasdale
Photo by Alistair.

The Sunday Posts 2013/ Sure Proof

I can no more describe you
than I can put a thing for the first time
where it already is.

If I could make a ladder of light
or comb the hair of a dream girl with a real comb
or pour a table into a jug...

I'm not good at impossible things
And that is why I'm sure
I will love you for my ever.

Norman MacCaig. 1968
Photo by Alistair