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Calling I hear the pipes from far away drummers in fields play highlands and bogs pipers march in dawns lifting fog past forest and streams overlooking stormy seas the brave need no sword In kilt they know who is lord comrades and comradely the knights of the highlands know the battles are won when in kilts the Pipers sound aye lad's, I too march homeward bound

Copyright © | Year Posted 2018




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Date: 6/1/2018 9:00:00 AM
I hear them too... beautiful
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Date: 5/26/2018 4:58:00 PM
In this trip through the Scottish highlands, Arthur, I sense the gallantry of those who march in battle. Indeed, a stirring description. We are all marching homeward... Hugs, Carolyn
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Date: 5/26/2018 3:00:00 PM
- Away good but at home best, Arthur - We all have something that brings the memories to our homeland ... "home" is always in our hearts :) - A lovely poem :) - Happy weekend :) - hugs // Anne-Lise :)
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Date: 5/26/2018 2:57:00 PM
wonderful write, Artur, a very appropriate for our memorial day weekend,, Victor is right you will always be my number ...
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Date: 5/26/2018 11:30:00 AM
A lovely write my friend...the pipes are always mysteriously sounding...let them go home...love & light...^WW^
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Date: 5/26/2018 8:28:00 AM
Their contribution to the war is immeasurable. Great poem Arthur.
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Date: 5/26/2018 2:29:00 AM
I really like this, Arthur. Long time no see. I am so busy and I bet you are too!!
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Date: 5/25/2018 5:22:00 PM
touching me with your beautiful rendition of going home, art... the pipes are calling!...wow--huggs!
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Date: 5/25/2018 10:19:00 AM
Homeward bound indeed, makes me wish to play the pipes. Well done my friend, well done..
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Date: 5/25/2018 1:54:00 AM
I won't even pull a "Tommy" act on you, Art! This is truly one of your best, IMO... So much so, I now wish I was Scottish.
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