"The Wild Geese"

John R. Yaws continues his fascinating Traveler's Tales series. This is John's 6th submission to my website ("Massacre at Glencoe" "Bannockburn Revisited" "A Tale for His Lodging" "The Forlorn Traveler" and "Travelin' On" previously posted).  - poetheart 07/27/01

I watched the Coliseum, aye! As it were built in Rome.
In gladiator's quarters were where I once made me 'ome.
A swordsman, an' a good un'. No, 'and to 'and fer me-
To use the net and trident, a mon shou' go to sea!

But, steel? Ah, lad! The work o' men, there's nuthin' like a blade-
To get a person's point across, when fightin' is 'is trade!
An', aye, I served the Legions, an' often formed "the square"-
An' sent an 'orde of Norsemen, into Valhalla, fair.

Aye, I swung me claymore, in many 'ighland flings…
And, faith! It tends to warm me 'eart, when steel on cold steel rings.
A soljer? aye, an' more than tha'… a vagabond, a rogue-
A mon, wha' makes 'is way alone, when comp'ny is the vogue.

Love? Aye lad, I've loved before; and likely will agin…
But there's no place for 'earth, an' 'ome, my track is like the wind.
I long for barren fields an' moors, preparin' fer some battle…
To 'ear some soldier's labored breath, or fallen foe's death rattle.

I've often thought I'd 'ad enough. I'd lay me armor by…
An' then in spring, or early fall, I'd 'ear the wild geese cry-
I'd 'one me blade, an' pack me kit, an' clean and oil me mail,
An' bid farewell to 'er I loved, thus goes the Traveler's Tale.

by John R. Yaws

go back
August 2001, John R. Yaws Interview sections you may visit (click)
Other poetry by John