Bran
In the heart of this enchanted wood,
Where ancient roots like sinews stood,
A wolf-like beast of myths does prowl,
With eyes so fierce, in shadows scowl.
Nature’s hand has carved this face,
Seamless with this rugged place,
In undergrowth where secrets sleep,
This creature’s watch, forever deep.
Nature’s hand, with skill and grace,
Has sculpted him the wildest face,
Merging with the rugged ground,
In silent watch, he makes no sound.
Oban’s famous ancient stone,
The Dog Stone stands, its tale well-known,
Where Fingal’s hound, the loyal Bran,
Once tethered there by the giant’s hand.
The giant’s chain, made grooves and scars,
Tells tales of hunts from lands afar,
Bran’s howls still haunt the evening air,
A ghostly bond beyond compare.
Amidst this weave of roots and lore,
A sentinel guards the forest floor,
Its limbs from woodland essence grown,
A hand of roots, by nature sown.
Could this be Fingal’s final trace,
To stroke his loyal hound’s embrace?
A bridge of earth and spirit’s blend,
In forest depths, where legends end.
Whispering Gully
More than beauty meets the eye
In Whispering Gully, legends lie
Listen close, the spirits speak
Secrets from the past, they keep
A place where druids meet at night
The chants and rituals, they recite
Their voices carried on the breeze
Still linger here among the trees
Down Generations secrets pass
In whispers around a flickering hearth
the fire’s flames gently glow
The stories of the Gully flow
On solstice nights, the air is alive
With mystic energy they still thrive
Ethereal figures seen through the mist
In Whispering Gully, They exist!
Nestled deep where shadows dance,
In Celtic woods, a river’s trance,
Alder-Creag, with light agleam,
Whispers of an ancient dream.
Guarded by the forest old,
Mystic tales its waters hold,
At dawn’s first light or twilight’s end,
A passage to realms beyond may rend.
Step within, the myths forewarn,
To timeless beauty, spirits drawn,
A place where secrets lie and swell,
In this otherworld they dwell.
But heed the whispers of the trees,
For once you cross, you’ll not be freed,
Forever part of legend’s tale,
In Alder-Creag’s mystic veil.
About Bran the Dog In Oban
The large rock nestled between Dunollie Castle and the centre of Oban, is known as the Dogstone or Fingal’s Dogstone. Many believed that this is where the giant, Fingal, left his dog Bran when he went off hunting across the Hebridean islands.
This is the original text that I wrote for the image – Bran, which I then took and made the poem above.
At the heart of this enchanted forest, gnarled tree roots intertwine like the sinews of a mythical creature, sculpting the visage of a wolf-like beast that prowls the shadowed undergrowth. Its piercing eyes, sculpted by nature’s hand while its form merges seamlessly with the rugged landscape.
Nearby, the legendary Dog Stone in Oban, stands as a silent witness to ancient lore. The tale of Fingal, the giant who once tethered his loyal hound Bran here during his hunts in the Hebrides, the stone bears the marks of Bran’s restless circling. The colossal chain once bound to the stone has carved a deep groove into its base, and it is said that the ghostly echoes of Bran’s howls still linger in the air, a haunting reminder of the bond between giant and beast.
Amidst this natural tapestry, another figure emerges—a sentinel of the forest. With its back turned, its limbs crafted from the very essence of the woodland, a hand intricately woven from roots reaches out to touch the forest floor, bridging the divide between earth and spirit, could t