Bic

A November morning’s dawn

a rising highland son free born

his nature labour an earth worker

born from toil of a British soil

Seoras to his native mother

George to his giving father

a pen became a metamorphosis

a quill’s black ink portrays his story

a gruelling ordeal of perfection

each poem became its search

harnessing his metre and rhyme

just one name one pen one piece

tests of time training a poetic mind

a struggle became an embrace

where observation first led the path

now a succinct clinical devotion

a Bicpen’s travelling smile

a heartfelt honing

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