Poet in the Mearns





Where Pitnamoon dwells ‘tis a magic place,

Whose high peaks mark the hill walkers’ frontier,

And broad skies her tall regal heights embrace,

Sun’s beams that thrall the bright morning air.

Horse-chestnuts spread their ochre laden boughs,

Skeins of geese across the Mearns traverse,

Men of the good earth labour autumn’s plough,

Where golden heads of corn have swayed the merse.

Spirits of the wind on Cairn-o-Mount sigh,

The old military road winds, twists and turns,

To a summit who’s setting suns glorify,

A landscape bathed in gold across the Mearns.

Pitnamoon homely nooks lit to the night,

O’er stilled fields a harvest Moon shines bright.


©  Peter Morriss 26.10.2007








Grampians grey heights cry

their rills of tears to the sea,

Galloping winds comb bendy

grasses across the lea;

Meandering contours cascade

their sweeping slopes of grazing


Azure skies break above Drumtochty

forest canopied deeps;

Heather awakes to paint wind swept

purple moors,

Swallows of Pitnamoon swoop to the

heart of its cynosure.


© Peter Morriss


The west Mearns Parish Church at Auchenblae





Features in some of the poems.



For poetry is truth,

And truth is akin

to the justice of God.


ST Palladius Chapel


Ancient ruin





If only these stones

could talk














The pictures show the chapel before the latest restoration.


Click on the thumbnails below for a larger image.