Poems from Sam Steele

It’s a time of sweet joy, when a man, not a boy, Says to his kith and my kin, I’ve learnt what I could, some bad and some good, The next...
(Cruth-tire is Scots Gaelic for 'Landscape') Take it from me, the things you can see The wonders your eyes will behold Mother Nature did...
Mine’s a gun-based culture and shooting is my thing To my local firing range, guns and bullets I will bring I fire handsome weapons at the...

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