| Message | The Ballad of Frank Searle
He chose to live of his own free will On the banks of the loch that is dark and chill, And nobody knows if he won't or he will Uncover the secret for good or for ill
And some say "Aye" and some say "Nay" Or turn thier heads when he walks thier way, But he will remain robust and gay As he scans the water the livelong day.
For they say little in Inverness Though more than a few will hazard a guess, That the age old secret within Loch Ness Is a family of Plesiosaurs, no less.
And one will yearn to scale the heights And others may long for majestic sights. In Trafalgar Sqaure they shout for thier rights Reflecting a world of neon lights.
But there in the peace of a northern day In the world of Mallard, kestrel and jay A silver ripple, rising spray, Fleeting movement, violent sway.
A quiet voice, a quiet man, Who writes his letters and reads when he can, And talks with a smile about the plan, To carry the monster off to Japan.
He patiently waits for that special day When the news will echo to Grantown of Spey "Yes" - Frank's brought one of them into the bay, We always knew he would - they'll say.
***Scottish Poem by Daphne Kirkpatrick (1976), this was written for a man who lived by the loch Ness in a tent for over 20 years searching for the monster.*** |