Old Man of Wick Castle

Ae ould man 'o Week stan's proud and bold
tho' his stons an' bon's are getting gey old
his beard sweeps doon tae the northern shore an his steady e'en watches ae waves as they roar.
He watches aye boaties as he did of old
returning to port and back to the fold
and over the lost one's in their last sleep
he holds constant guard from his northern keep.
To all of his sons so far away
he will keep the faith and always be
part of our heritage Castle at home
we'll remember forever, wherever we roam.

came across this poem and it made me feel very homesick. Ahhhh!
Hope you like it all exiled Weekers.

where do you find your Caithness poems

got lots of Caithness related books.
Why- do you like or dislike them?:confused

in case the answer was like here I go with another one.

Wick Bay --Memories

Oh! blow ye winds of Caithness that comes in from the wild North Sea
and bring to us the memories of days that used to be.
We remember when the boats returned with herring all silver and bright
and the joy of the folk to greet them at the end of a long, long, night.
We remember, the Royal Sovereign moored strong from helm to stern
we remember the night one boat came back t'was "The Metha" -for them we mourn.
She reached the harbour entrance and safety was in sight
but the waves were too high and the seas too strong
"The Metha" went down that night.
And still we watch the harbour and look out on the open bay
we pray for the one's who never came back
and those still fighting the spray.

(The Metha-- a Danish fishing vessel 1930's)