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If my expressions of love are too much,

if my emotions overwhelm and suffocate,

then I apologise.

For in me is a tumult;

a psychological, emotional upheaval

that at times leaves me agitated and raw.

It rubs against the Catholic ethos and the expectation

of noble breed that is instilled within the bones

of my mortal soul.

I am not a weak and vulnerable lackey

to whose Laird or master one must bend.

I am though a son of Bruce, whose tenacity

I am intended to emulate.

And there, with him, on the many battlefields

before and between Byland Ridge and Bannockburn

I will stand foursquare.

 

4th October 2016