I live in the highlands with valleys and mountains, <br />Working the soil where I spend all my days, <br />For this is my home I was born and was raised in, <br />A crofter my father I learned from his ways. <br />I followed his footsteps like he had before me, <br />Passed down generations from father to son, <br />I gathered the wisdom from all of my elders, <br />And knew as a crofter a job's never done. <br /> <br />I toiled in the morning I toiled through the evening, <br />Sowing and planting and turning the sod, <br />When I was too tired to go on any longer, <br />I sank to my knees and I then prayed to God. <br />To bring a good harvest to earn me a living, <br />To clothe and to feed me so I could survive, <br />I prayed for my elderly mother and father, <br />Until they were sadly no longer alive. <br /> <br />I married a lass she was sweet and so pretty, <br />We raised a young family I taught them my trade, <br />My boys grew up quickly and as I grew older, <br />I left them the reins and I lived in their shade. <br />And now as I look on the valleys and mountains, <br />With my love beside me our lives almost done, <br />Our children have learnt all the ways of a crofter, <br />And carry the torch now from father to son.<br /><br />ANDREW BLAKEMORE<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-crofter-s-tale/
