And I felt glorious

A storyteller magically reached out to me:
and I felt glorious.
That kindly reach,
the shared feel
of all my Carmichaels, Camlets and Bardies.

Scotland’s bonnie tapestry:
where charm is the pattern
of oor language
and history.

A storyteller magically reached out to me:
and I felt glorious.
A wee Spartan and a Makar
sharing stories
as two girls sang.

I wrote this poem in a cave on the island of Davaar, Argyll. I then throw what I had written into the Atlantic. So this version is stitched together from what stayed with me [in my mind]. 

This poem is for Alexander McCall Smith.

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