The Larig Gru (a poem by Syd Scroggie)
The Larig Gru
(Mountain Pass from Braemar to Aviemore)
Is this the Larig then, this halcyon way,
Thick terror should by rights possess the soul
Madness by night, uneasy haste by day
To slip the skinny clutch of loitering troll
Where is the storm that shrieks, the silent snow
Sifting that ruck of melancholy bone
There where the Grey Man's monstrous footfalls go
And reeling warlocks ring the Tailor's Stone.
This is that impish genii the sun
And his the hand and his the shimmering brain
And his the laughter when the wheel was spun.
This is some other age, some other land
And we by noonday's mirage pilgrims twain
Upon the Golden Road to Samarkand.