Thoughts from Drumlanrig's Tower

Thoughts from Drumlanrig's Tower The changeable jewel of the sky surroundsOur panoramic hills and brooks.It clothes the rooves that shield our homes,Gilds the fields and skims the woods,Lights the cliffs and waters the downsOf the Scottish Borders: below the calm,We rest in the dark of the valley's palm,The only town for miles around. At common-riding time they hang up bunting,Rows of blue and gold, and chant old songs.When the horses come, a hundred strong,They cheer them on, their faces bright with sun,And toddlers clap their hands to see their fathersRiding by, the neat hats of their mumsMade in colours bright as parrot-feathers. Hawick charmed me with its smallness, how the skyCradles with one blue arm its curvatureOf hills, the compass to its high horizon,Each tree a guard, each barn a watchtower,Each flower grown by someone I know, or ought to. The orient pearls of the clouds dissolve asGently as frost returns to meltwater -Soon the leafy shoulders of the Borders,Green on gold, will offer us a fortress,Trembling as the stars recede to darkness.Soon a sunlit net will fall upon us,Hillsides bustle softly with the soundOf the only town for miles around. Sara Clark