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I remember wind-blown grass
Under sheep's hooves and
Sand glinting in the sun
As sweet songs so delicately sung
Danced between my ears.
Colonsay is where my clan's from,
Or so they say,
Maybe moons ago it was those
Of my blood who tended the fields
And ate under leafy trees.
Perhaps they too gazed out at Jura
(Or whatever they called it)
And thought just how lucky we are
To have these rocks we call home,
Alba, my gentle mother.
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