Th’ Banks o’ Pison

Th’ day o’ th’ Laird is nigh

when nae man wull be spared.

Today is th’ day o’ th’ last sunrise,

the last breath we tak’.

At th’ mercy o’ Undine,

Under th’ hateful glare

O’ Kulkuklan, th’ feathered serpent

in the Garden of Guid ‘n’ Evil.

All ither thoughts

and thinkings become dust

and comes tae naught

in th’ Garden o’ th’ Damned.

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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