Wrapped in sky and heathered hills

caressed by briny horses wild,

so far from dark satanic mills

survives the empire's favoured child.

 

Once stripped and starved of tongue and god

its people slaved and banished cold,

crofts and mànas razed to sod

that none who dwelled there might grow old.

 

But land in time calls back its own

disgorging tyrants, killing kings,

and those returning hold what's known

that those who stole could never bring.

 

This place so loved by earth and man

too much that any heart could own,

will never bow to scheme or plan

that was not on its own shores grown.

 

Audio & Video available at link below

https://wolfgarwords.com/2024/11/27/alba/