My ancestors, you were burned from the glens
As the ice gouged Strathcarron, then melted to mingle with sea-loch, you melted from glens to the shore.
When your roof-timbers crackled in Sutherland's fires at Strathnaver, you scoured a treeless coastline.
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great historical poetry now please also read my poem Mom's Smiles thnx
A voice not often heard in today's cacophony...