The Thistle

 

The Thistle

I grew a thistle but it died
Along with my hopes denied
For Independence, to be Free
for my Country and for me

I woke again this morn
With my hopes again reborn
Not one thistle on the ground
But a whole multitude around

the seeds my old thistle left
grew more children in its stead
Now there are thistles everywhere
And Independence in the air.

We shall reap that which we sow
A little faith is sure to grow
When we stand for what is right
All doubts and fears take flight

To stand tall and to be free
Social justice and liberty
Grasp the thistle if you dare
But of its thorns beware

For the Thistle has its pride
And it’s freedom shan’t be denied
It is a flower not a weed
and its independence it succeeds

Rod Macfarlane