The fledgling dibble danced / 

Across warm rocks and road / 

In front of your castle, / 

Betwixt the rumbling carriages, / 

In the late afternoon

And I thought

I heard you call

From Edinburgh

For me to watch over

This jump skipping bit of life

And as this wee bird

Crossed safely over

To your side

And into your gardens,

My thoughts glinted

The miles between us

From Midlothian

And I thought of you

Then whisper soothed

The wind to say:

“Thou newborn Thrush

Singing safe,

Is snug-sequestered

Amongst the tall grasses

And reaching branches

of your Grace."

Albeit the crickets

Still chorused

The day’s dusk,

And said come home -

Shed the heartache

From the husk.

Come home -

Lest the memory

Like a rogue returns

And sits upon the weather vane,

 Where once the rooster red

Sat proud upon his throne,

Now has flown, has fled

And from whence

Love's dreams doth sped,

In the War of Roses -

Hearts of White Roses and Red

Onto English Gardens hath bled,

And into the night

Through Kingsmen's woods

We were walking aloft

Upon a metaphor,

Then faster as upon

A galloping steed,

I pressed my heart

One last time

Into the Gaelic mist

And Anglo-Saxon reed,

And braced with Beowulf's mead

And sweetest aqua vitae,

Slipped my hand from yours

And waded into the icy bog,

Never reaching the other side,

And thus freed from mortality

And the longings

Of unrequited love,

Felt Saint Mercy's sword

Atop my pate,

Then swiftly from above.

http://jay-licata.blogspot.com/2007/11/from-edinburgh-to-midlothian.html