Saturday, May 22, 2010

Where-with-all Walls - A hand written poem by John Scott


I saw a report in the news about a man,
Who, to his surprise, was caught with a rock in his hand,
Piling stones up stones in the back of his yard
Found in some dirt that his neighbor discarded
“Halt!” Screamed a man wearing tan overalls
“Who do you think you are? You’ve got some balls!
Yes YOU, the one stacking limestone and granite
What are your qualifications? I’ve the right to demand it!”
The man looked up and asked “What is the problem?
My father showed me this and his father before him.
He was a poor highland farmer from the land of the Crieff
Who came to this country in a great time of grief.
He showed me to batter and to keep a wall hearted
And to lay throughs half way up, every three feet or so parted
He showed me just ONCE and I got it, but then needed practice
So that my joints were all crossed and copes were as even as matches”
“I don’t care,” said the man in the tan overalls
“Clearly you don’t have the right stone where-with-alls!
I’ve just come from across the Atlantic Ocean
To put an end to all this dry stone commotion
We’ve heard in this country there exists the potential
Of Canadians who build walls without proper credentials
First you must prove that the stones you’ve been fittin’
Correspond to the way that we do it in Britain”
“Surely”, said the man, “We can make an alliance”
I’m piling up stones, it’s not rocket science!
Besides”, said the man, “Who exactly are you,
To say what it is I can or can’t do?
You’re rebuilding walls built by farmers and horses.
You’re taking down 'random' rubble and rebuilding in 'courses'!

( part 2 will be posted tomorrow )

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