Thistle do nicely

by Hugh Findlay

Above, Scotch mist rises,

blue, slow and creamy. 

Thistle, guardian against invaders,

announces its purple warning. 

Below, the Royal Mile adorned 

with St. Andrew’s cobblestones. 

Labor up to the castle for views, 

singular and steeped like tea, 

of the bracing Firth of Forth,

as bagpipes cry for Loch Lomond

and shortbread butters the tongue. 

Oh, wouldn’t it frost ye—

grabbing at the prickly stem,

reaching for family roots,

as buds explode in 

your mind, your heart. 

Whether on Princes street, or

atop Scott monument, even

in shadows ‘neath Arthur’s Seat, 

jutting spires abound with 

thistle stamped in contrary pride. 

Do not pick a fight with this beauty

as it is festooned for battle. 

Give in, and hold it up, 

high as your Scottish chin,

whilst angels take their share 

of your whiskey in wind. 

Go wrap it then, in cashmere 

scarves, or drape it smartly 

in grand tartans for all to see—

its clan’s ancestors in defiance,

donning their own purple tams, 

lovely, yet brutal as sword dances.

_____________________________________________

Hugh Findlay’s writing and photography have been published worldwide.  Nominated for a Pushcart Prize in 2020 for poetry, the Best Microfiction Anthology in 2024 for prose, and the Best of the Net Anthology in 2024 for photography, he is in the third trimester of life and hopes y’all like his stuff.  IG: @hughmanfindlay. Web: https://www.hughmanfindlay.com