Bern Paul Poet Narrative

The Drum Major

I am the drum major
my baton twirls I catch with ease
my whistle so shrill 
the band follows my every move
the beat of the big base drum 
and the magic sound of a dozen trombones
then the pipes begin to wail
and all are in awe at the military tattoo
the lonesome piper as we march
every one in the crowed hushed
we march as if on air like we would not dare

The pipes in my ears glow
takes me back to some mist soaked glen
when armys met and pipers played dragon
And the drum major ignored the shot
his whistle shrill pipers loud 
led the the army through the glen
Sword and musket clashed
still the drum major led his band
shouts and curses filled the land blood
and gore filled that day

There were no winners in a war
but the drum major walked on
and now the pipers play amazing grace 
and the drum major William Wilburforce had the crowd on its feet
Through his band they saw the past 
and every one said out loud 
as the drum major blew his whistle
what we fighting for
And his piper played amazing grace
and love filled this place

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