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White waves crash on rocks with their sound
Death ships in full sail fill the background
Men standstill, on the far ridge overlooking
Playing pipes for the dead, now spirit bound

Tall flames rise quickly through the fog
Releasing men's souls to fly away
To seek the far places of Scottish Gods
While widowed women cry out this day

Lightning strikes with a thunderous clap
The thickening fog rolls into the bay
Ships are stacked with dead on their backs
And set ablaze so they can sail away

Woven and warm kilts flap in chilled winds
Ships ablaze are now far from shore
Men playing pipes stand still in the cold
On the dark ridge above the Scottish shores

Pipes will be played as voices haunt
Memories of sacrifice endure
Songs will be sung and great stories told
In villages on the Scottish shores

Women with long and anguished tears
Gather their children, they'll have no more
Their lives sustained are now filled with fear
In villages on the Scottish shores

2/6/14

contest "V" New or Old
sponsor Constance La France

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