Saturday, 19 March 2016

Ballad of Pittencrieff Park

Will it still be as in my childhood memories?…..

Behind the wrought iron gates
lush lawns, open spaces, playful parks
of gala days
tartan rugs laid down
and sandwiches shared.

Peacocks strutting
spreading tails wide and high
their blue green feathers
banned from houses
for fear of bad luck and death.

Hidden nooks and crannies
amidst the granite stones
Queen Margaret’s Bower
dank, dark, dismal remembrances
of love and religion

Ruins laid bare
rebuilt like Lego
to create a vision of past Abbeys
in front of the new

Only later did I know the story
the activist’s son, Carnegie as in the Halls,
who made good on the backs of workers
bought it for his mother
and gifted it for all, for all time,
to the people free from the landowner’s ban.

© Sheila Ash 19th March 2016

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