I gaze across the stone grey sea
Across to the island where you now lie
I watch in wonder: I wait now to be
The one adoring the sleeping big guy –
The fellow who guards Scotland’s West coast
Lying still on the ridge of Arrans high peak
Protesting the shores and the lands we boast
Are the fairest by far whenever we speak
We owe much to protection silently giv’n
And I watch you now fascinated, in awe
As you lie looking up high toward heaven
I walk on the beach and think of my beau
Who, like you guarded these coasts just for me
And all those folk who live by the sea.
Great, handsome,towering,wondrous weed
’twas I who sowed yon shrivelled seed
Now I must do a loathesome deed,
The Council found.
You are an alien, dangerous thing,
Your sap and foiliage worse than sting
Of wasp or bee.
But I shall bide till you will fling
The Council declared war on you
With poisonous, worse than you can brew
Within your veins.
Mere minions fuss with much ado.
My anger flames.
Your parasol so fair and white
Stops many an insect in its flight,
To rest and feed,
Perchance to meet a mate that’s right
To love and breed.
Fecundity’s a mighty power;
For seven years I rued the hour
Your brood did fall.
Compelled to toil with spade and trowel,
I am your thrall.