Up where Dugald Stewart reigns, supreme in Scottish Sunset glory
We see that sunshine, very real, enlightening our story
Aware that what we see is real, and what we feel, sensational
We listen when we’re lectured to, precise, it’s informational!
Innate ideas are common sense and understood with judgement
though layout of the streets and minds can sometimes become fudgement!
A messy world with old and new and still a work-in-progress
We play our way through every move just like a game of chess
Yet what is clear and obvious, though sunset colours swirl
Is that there’s right and wrong, my friends, being born a boy or girl.
The Natural Disorder may appear a tree of leaves
Which shaking in the evening breeze disturbs what one believes.
Our Moral compass, once so straight and helpfully profound
Is silent as the sunset light and circling all around!
Look at the columns, set in stone, with ample decoration
Do they not set imagination free, a Scottish, British nation?
The mix is all reality, the yellow hues and reds
The ‘sunset thinking’ is still new and relevant to many heads!
“Colonial!” some say! Yet from the earlier Revolutions
It’s time to think it through and edit subsequent dilutions!
The town is real, we see it here, and know its structure too,
The angles and the colour shades what masonry can do.
There’s what is real and poetry to illustrate key points
There’s theory made to serve us with the lives that God anoints.
There’s beauty in the way we live, there’s chaos and confusion
Which we figure out and understand and make-real from such illusion.
For what we see and hear and touch are fundamental truth
Informing our perception and enlightening our youth.