Two bites at the cherry

Folk who know our micro business, Pictures and Poems, may think they recognise this one, the pastel painting I call Fain 2... However it's not called Fain 2 for nothing. Several years ago I painted Fain 1, which was sold by Aida at the Stepping Stones gallery near Dundonnell. A very good client had wanted to buy it but missed out and in the end persuaded me to paint a near copy. 'Monet', she said, 'Painted his haystacks and poplars and Rouen(?) cathedral dozen of times. I couldn't argue with that, so the above is the result. At least I don't need to compose another poem; the original one will do ...

The House on the Fain

Long since left to the wilderness
Fain House stands guard
high on the wild and lonely road
that those who built it all those years ago
knew by the name of 'Destitution'.
(For the building of it was a meagre way,
in those days of famine and
the crumbling of the clans
to stay alive.)

Flanked by crested lizard-like
An Teallach, cold watchful queen
of Wester-Ross's hills,
raked by strong winds, in winter buried,
often, under drifting banks of snow,
'The Fain' runs straights and true,
strong testament, like the house
by which it stands, dying,
to iron wills with picks and shovels
of the past.

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