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Clan Society Bard
  
Rod Mooney was the Clan Society's Bard as well as being an Honorary Vice President of the Society. He was based in Connecticut in the USA but sadly passed away in December 2012.
      
We are pleased to reproduce some of his compositions below
  
Others have written poetry about the Clan. Please click here to read a selection. 
 
 

GLENSHEE

     

                                                                    

How many generations now

Have viewed the spot and wondered how

Our ancestor could somehow gain

Such courage at the auld Cockstane.

  

How fitting that each year we see

Our Clansmen gather at Glenshee

To honour there auld Thomaidh Mor,

And all our line, since days of yore.

 

His hand was strong, his cause was right,

Recovering the widow’s mite.

The modern day MacThomas Clan

Has noble roots in such a man.

    

 

The Spittal of Glenshee has seen

What such a lineage can mean.

Each August sees our growing band

Renew its ties to Finegand.

     

Though chivalry and derring do

Are ancient concepts, still we’re true

And loyal to our Scottish ties;

We’d be false Clansmen otherwise.

So listen, all ye Clan-less waifs,

Pay heed as this Scot Bard vouchsafes:

To give full meaning to your life,

Be true to Clan as to your wife!

  

HEART

 

  

The Bruce and Wallace and Thomaidh Mor,

Their deeds are part of our Scottish lore;

What sets such heroes of old apart?

Their skill at arms or their strength of heart?

 

 

The Scotsman’s heart is a mystery

That fills the pages 0f history.

Though robbed and routed by Englishmen,

The Scots kept rising to fight again.

 

Perhaps it’s loyalty to the Clan

That makes a Scot such a special man.

His heart and confidence surely built

As he strode forth in his Clan’s braw kilt.

 

 

Their country’s small, but its men are large;   

In countless battles, they’ve led the charge!

Outnumbered, oft, from the very start

They’ve held the field with their Scottish

heart. 

Or was it maybe the Highland mist

That casts a spell that one can’t resist?

The magic pull of the Scottish moor

Still swells the heart, as in days of yore.

 

 

With pipers leading them in the fray,

With pikes and broadswords in proud array,

The bravest warriors, Scotsmen true,

Their Scottish heart is what sees them

                                                   through. 

  

THE EARLY DAYS

   

  

The Dalriada Scotti

Came across the Irish sea

And gave their name to Scotland,

                As it's known to you and me.    

 

From that day on, dear Scotland

               Has embraced internal strife,

With leaders gaining office

               By their predecessor’s life.

    

Their leader, Ken MacAlpin,

                Taught the Picts some basic facts:

They’d either learn to love him

                 Or they’d learn to hate his axe!

     

 

But here, in Clan MacThomas,

               We’re a kinder, gentler crew,

Who really hate to brag about

               The folks auld Thomaidh slew.

             

Then later came the longships

                 With the Norsemen and the Danes;

They slaughtered and they plundered,

                 Which annoyed the Scottish thanes.

     

 

Our clan is small but loyal,

               And we view our past with pride;

Our home is in the Highlands,

               Though they come from far and wide.

            

King Malcolm then decided,

                 If we fight the Danes, we’re dead!

Let’s start a new tradition;

                 We will fight ourselves instead.

 

We share a love of Scotland,

               Though she’s modified her ways;

Yet still we thrill retelling

               All those tales 0f early days.

  

A printer friendly version of these poems is available by clicking here.

  

Added at Launch

Updated 26/03/2011

Updated 02/10/2012