Folk lore talks of this place <br />It belongs to us the Scottish race <br />Its name is called Brigadoon <br />Fills your heart with love and hope real soon <br /> <br />Every hundred years or so <br />This village appears, were we do not know <br />Romantic setting snow caped hills <br />Your tingling spine gives you a chill <br /> <br />As you wonder down of the beaten track <br />You see smoke coming from a chimney stack <br />Over the brae just ahead <br />You see a village it’s not on the map you read <br /> <br />To your right a babbling brook <br />And over the humped back bridge you look <br />Crofters houses in a row, so over the bridge you do go <br />A sign appears saying Brigadoon <br /> <br />Villagers great you with open arms <br />With the Scottish usual charm <br />Ric you will settle down real soon <br />As you’re in that place called Brigadoon <br /> <br />Chellaston <br />13 11 2010<br /><br />Jim O'Donnell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/brigadoon/
