Wednesday, June 24, 2026

Misty Hills Of Albion

Misty Hills Of Albion
© Surazeus
2026 06 24

Striding misty hills of Oblivion, 
Alpin asks mountain stone why people die 
and vanish in silver clouds of his heart 
that form bright saltire, white as sparkling snow, 
across cerulean glimmer of the sky  
which widens his eyes at gold flash of dawn. 

Ascending misty hills of Albion, 
where purple thistles blossom in red rain, 
brave Alpin grips spear of courageous hope, 
heart glowing with duthchas for his homeland 
where silver rivers spiral to the sea 
with song of laughter flowing through his heart. 

Alert to weird glamor of Helicon 
that gleams from misty hills of Albion, 
fierce Alpin crouches on ledge of the ridge 
and gazes over valley where sheep graze, 
since spirit of Apollon in his heart 
guides his way safe through maze of hungry ghosts. 

Awake on misty hills of Albion, 
wise Alpin tells his young son, sly Cinaed, 
how Scythia, Mother of all Alban Scots, 
bore daughter from Saint Andrew Protocletus, 
brave Scotia who lead her people by ship 
to misty shores of winged Sgitheanach Isle. 

Kneeling on lush Sligachan River shore, 
grim Alpin dips his face in freezing water, 
in which sweet daughter of Scathach once wept, 
and asks the Sithichean of wild fairy glens 
to bless his children with love for the world, 
whose glamor gleams from deep core of his heart. 

Entranced by sparkling passion of her eyes, 
which depict green island in the blue sea, 
shy Alpin plays harp Taliesin once owned 
and sings sweet song of his enduring love 
so cheeks of Eithne blush red as the rose, 
half hidden by long tresses of gold curls. 

Returning to the mystic Isle of Skye, 
where bones of my ancestors form huge hills, 
I wander misty hills of Albion 
to hear again weird tune of wind on rocks, 
lured home by fierce song of wild ocean waves 
that pulse with pride in blue blood of my veins. 

Too far from home in groves of apple trees, 
I linger lost in strange land of desire 
where ghosts of natives haunt my humble home, 
so I seek dolphin of lithe Arion 
to bear my soul across wild ocean waves 
back home to misty hills of Albion. 



1 comment:

  1. Orpheus teaches young eager Alpin how to play Harp of David the shepherd as they lounge on lush slopes in mist on mysterious Isle of Skye.

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