The Road To Marykirk

By Violet Jacob

    To Marykirk ye’ll set ye forth,
    An’ whustle as ye step alang,
    An’ aye the Grampians i’ the North
    Are glow’rin’ on ye as ye gang.
    By Martin’s Den, through beech an’ birk,
    A breith comes soughin’, sweet an’ strang,
        Alang the road to Marykirk.

    Frae mony a field ye’ll hear the cry
    O’ teuchits,[1] skirlin’ on the wing,
    Noo East, noo West, amang the kye,
    An smell o’ whins the wind ‘ll bring;
    Aye, lad, it blaws a thocht to mock
    The licht o’ day on ilka thing –
    For you, that went yon road last spring,
        Are lying deid in Flanders, Jock.

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Pick Me Up Poetry seeks to be an agent of change in society by fostering cross-cultural dialogue and providing much-needed information and representation for writers and performers. We offer our followers insightful glimpses into cultures around the globe through various mediums including our online articles, published anthologies, live spoken-word events and more. 

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