Th’ Keeper of the Scrolls

Th’ silent jaws o’ death

Closed o’er his sleepin’ bones

To ‘wait th’ test o’ thyme,

Tae hear his name be called again

By th’ keeper o’ th’ scrolls.

He slipped intae th’ cauld black deep.

No soun’ kin reach his soggy corpse.

No ears can hear his silent scream.

No light tae guide his pilgrimage

Unto his highland home.

Committed deep in th’ arms o’ Perdition

He awaits in sleep upon tha’ gathering,

Th’ calling o’ souls tae join th’ feast,

Tea hear his name be called again

By th’ keeper o’ th’ scrolls.

This be th’ call we all must hear

When we lay our heads tae sleep.

This day may be our very last,

May this day be ours tae keep.

May it be tha’ way for this, th’ soul,

Th’ son o’ man, born o’ womb.

For each and every mother’s son

Who breathes th’ morning air

An’ gives rise tae meet th’ sun.

Tae hear our name be called again

By th’ keeper o’ th’ scrolls.

About jedwardnajera

I am an artist and a Poet. I live the life of a poet. I published several novels. Nena the Fairy and the Iron Rose, Dust of the Moon are among them, available through Amazon Books. I have spent over thirty five years in a classroom. I am now retired from that profession. My father kept a living record of his lifetime as he lived through the Twentieth Century. He was born in 1908 and almost lived long enough to see us enter the new millennium. He entrusted to me nearly 400 pages that he wrote through the years. Now I am continuing the tradition by posting my own stories and misadventures. I am trying to post a new entry or chapter each Friday. Check in on us at least once a week for the latest post.
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