Glencoe

Glencoe

Bleak and cruel and stunning the view
Loyalty and treachery in equal amounts seeps into the hills.
Powerful feuds and legendary deeds that sweep up the mountain-side
The Glen passes down the line to owners new.
We walked the paths and admired the views
And listened to stories of massacre in the early hours of winter.
You gasp at the betrayal and raw beauty of the breathtaking glen
And you imagine the pain when they heard the news.

Many years we spent in company fond
In Kinlochleven with elderly sisters two we bedded and breakfasted:
Mrs Campell a widow and Miss McDonald a spinster of the realm.
Two lovely and loving women with history in their veins,
Sibling devotion and a bloody past a bond.
Dad would look across the glen to the skyline beyond
And wonder at the bravery and naivety of those who scaled the heights.
He would buy rare whiskies that he would never ever drink
And dream of bravehearts conned.

Those kindest sisters we visited many years
And I think of them then in the heart of the brutal landscape.
Glencoe was their life, their hopes and their fears
Glencoe was their home of laughter and tears.


Linda Prince