This Poem was Submitted By: Kenneth R. Patton On Date: 2003-08-08 08:58:40 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

To Listen to Music While Reading this Poem, just Click Here!

Click Here To add this poem to your "Voting Possibilities" list!


Auld Trosk

Younger than my daughter This vision on the stage Playing her fiddle unawares Just another classmate Thank God she was in the front Enthralling breathless beauty Classic Scottish chin Her pastel skin accentuated By flowing brown hair Framing her delicate face She had a stunning body A bit too mature For her young features, her child eyes Perhaps in less traditional dress God, does she have any idea? She did not acknowledge us As she played just feet away Toes barely tapping, legs disappearing into tartan Seemingly aloof, more likely shy Stealing glances at her mates. But then she sang! The chorus disappeared as she came alive in song I saw, I heard no one else just the Sweet voice of this angel, (Ah sang tae mah Johnny) No longer subdued, joyously passionate She actually walked by me at the end All of them children once again In single file their faces reddened As I thanked them one by one They clutched their fiddles and hurried past the applause She's back in Scotland now Harsh land of my heritage Unaware thank God, of an auld trosk With an aching heart, in love with a Scottish myth In anither life Ah woods win 'er nae doobt

Copyright © August 2003 Kenneth R. Patton

Additional Notes:
I saw the Fochaber Fiddlers while on vacation in Pinehurst NC. A Scottish high school group of about 30 crowded onto a small stage in a local church. It was amazing watching them! Talented musicians while they played, giggling teens in between. But there was one...... By the way Auld Trosk is Scottish for Old Fool!


Sorry, there are no critiques for this poem in our system... If the poem is older, the critiques have been purged! Poetry Contests Online at The Poetic Link

Click HERE to return to ThePoeticLink.com Database Page!