Winner, 2019 Rap Like Robbie Poetry Competition
The bonny fields o’ heather
Sway gently in the breeze
My large feet crunch the delicate wee flowers under them
I fill me lungs wi’ th’ fresh air of the delicate golden dawn
And wish tha’ the peace an’ beauty would ne’er end
I can hear the plovers calling to each other,
The souls of young mothers
Who died giving birth tae their bairns
Runnin’ around their nests
Searchin’ fer another bairn tha’ they willnae find
The ice-cold wa’er skips over the stones o’ the burn
Tinklin’ like the bit o’ an impatient gelding
Th’ wa’er runs down the burn teasin’ the midges
As it hops an’ skips o’er the rocks
An’ carries wi’ it the salmon down intae the loch
Down in th’ loch I can see the smooth heads o’ selkies
Gliding through th’ dark wa’er as though it were velvet
I stand hypnotized by their fluid movements through th’ wa’er until they dive
and disappear intae their underwa’er home
I stand abruptly an’ make me way back up tae th’ stables
To begin breaking in the devil o’ a stallion Donas