The Postie of the Glen

At the heart of the community Postie Jim was his name
Glen Esk gossip and mail delivery was his game
A bag full of letters and parcels on his bike
Every day he covered over a 30 mile hike

His first stop the Gamey’s, next to Millden Lodge
Avoiding the low flying Pheasant, he has to dodge
Quick hello to Jim, Marianne, Dennis and Joan
His feet going like the clappers as fast as Fred Flintstone

Time to stop at the waterwheel to fill up his wee canteen
Then straight up the hill to Blackcraigs to visit Alastair Skene,
Young Mick and Jock fighting; neither wanted the loss
But they both new sister Susan was the real big boss

Now over the brig to Dalhasnie to drop into Jack Main’s
Who with his four sons farmed the land not for grain?
It was all about sheep, cattle and other livestock
Remembering not to annoy the bull with the big dreadlock!

Next came the Smiddy where his sister Jean now stayed,
Not long ago since the blacksmith performed the horse trade,
The road used to be all cobbles before it was tarred
Many a hoof repaired before they could stand guard.

Peddled past the Kirk and the school at Tarffy,
Where the kids love to wave at the Glen Postie
Dinner time at Tibby’s shop where everything was homemade
All his cousin sold was jam, tattie crisps and real lemonade

Just below the Bellows, Postie has a date at Mid Toon
With Bob Gibb the mute, famous for being a mighty strong loon
He would challenge all the Glenners to bend a six inch nail
Only the hardy make it onto the wall with the rabbit’s tail

Onwards and upwards through the Glen he continues to go,
Right past the Guinea Stone where no one can win that game show
On a hot day he goes dookin’ at Drakes swimming pool
Followed by the Baileys obeying Eck Little John’s golden rule

At the top of the road with Invermark Castle now in site,
Passed Loch Lee Church, where the minister would recite
Men of the cloth, servants of god, first John Forbes then Alan Watt
All mails delivered, the days nearly done, straight back home to a feast in the pot

At the heart of the community Postie Jim was his name
He is no longer with us and the Glen will never be the same
He lived for his family, Glen, croft, animals and precious gnomes,
May he find peace in heaven always wandering through the hills he loved to roam


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Filed under Abou Ali, poetry

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