And I can hear the rain outside my bedroom window,
Reminding me that Scotland’s here to stay,
In the cooling of the air from humid tension,
Promising archetypal Scottish day
When the showers, so oft bemoaned by many,
Including me, I own, but nevermore,
Wash away the dust, clearing vision,
Nourish hardy tribe from clans of yore.
From the thistle, as an emblem, to the backdrop
Of mountains fit for scaling, this I know,
In the culture of a people lies its mission,
Freedom’s in the heart, so freedom sow.
scottishmomus 