Above the diluvial plane stood the mountain
Gazing down the steppe and fields of thistle
To the small hamlet with the waist high wall of stone,
On the Isle of Skye, the village of Brittle.

Hearty Scots there knew of the man,
Ancient in days, and dark in nature
Who resided in a hidden Refuge
Near the peak of Sgurr MhicChoinnich

Though their benefactor was hardly seen,
He was known to watch them all.
But ne’er did the dark man appear in the mist,
Nor broach the stoney walls.

From the spirit man that resided there
There was only one request to them,
“Keep lit the Cairn of Aingus here
And dinna not seek entry to An Lasrach Gorm Uaimh”

© 2014 D. Edward Croy