Sunday, 8 November 2015
The Sunday Posts 2015/ Remembrance
On the idle hill of summer,
Sleepy with the flow of streams,
Far I hear the steady drummer
Drumming like a noise in dreams.
Far and near and low and louder
On the roads of earth go by,
Dear to friends and food for powder,
Soldiers marching, all to die.
East and west on fields forgotten
Bleach the bones of comrades slain,
Lovely lads and dead and rotten;
None that go return again.
Far the calling bugles hollo,
High the screaming fife replies,
Gay the files of scarlet follow:
Woman bore me, I will rise.
Mince and Tatties I dinna like hail tatties Pit on my plate o mince For when I tak my denner I eat them baith at yince. Sae mash ...
When he speaks a small sentence, he is a man who presses a plunger that will blow the face off a cliff. Or: one last small penstroke...
Hullo ma wee blog, It's nice to get a comment or two on something you've published. Most comment comes from those readers who...