I pause to listen as skylarks scold

And try to smell the houses of old

I can almost smell the rough wood smoke

And hear the chatter of crofting folk

Ruins of crofts lazy by the lane

Achingly beautiful, hauntingly alone

Telling the story of the arrogant Duke

Clearing crofters away from their home

Evicted from not just their homes

But their lives

From simple prosperity

To struggling to survive

This is the horror of the ignorant rich

That sense of privilege we can’t understand

But stand here and reflect on this story of old

That true wealth is simplicity of a life off the land