Th’ Bad Air

Days o’ nights, nights o’ thunder

Winds tha’ bring th’ plagues o’ nightfall,

Dip your hyssop intae th’ bloody pool an’

Pray th’ Dark One shall pass by.

Thare be weeping on oor shores,

An’ in oor camps.

Thare be cursing at the’ demons o’ th’ fevers

Thay mak oor lives a cursed misery,

A punishment tae be among th’ living.

Th’ bad air spares nae a man

Frae th’ fevers an’ th’ chills, an th’ anal drips.

Nae a mercy tae th’ innocent an’ th’ blameless, in

This land o’ th’ terrible judgement.

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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