The Sunday Posts 2014/Caledonia

I don't know if you can see the changes that have come over me
In these last few days I've been afraid that I might drift away
So I've been telling old stories, singing old songs, that make me think about where I come from
That's the reason why I seem so far away today

Let me tell you that I love you and I think about you all the time
Caledonia you're calling me and now I'm going home
But if I should become a stranger you know that it would make me more than sad
Caledonia's been everything I've ever had

I have moved and I've kept on moving, proved the points that I needed proving
Lost the friends that I needed losing, found others on the way
And I've kissed the ladies and left them crying, stolen dreams, yes there's no denying
I have travelled hard sometimes with conscience flying somewhere in the wind

Now I'm sitting here before the fire, the empty room, the forest choir
The flames that couldn't get any higher they've withered now they've gone
But I'm steady thinking, my way is clear and I know what I will do tomorrow
When the hands have shaken and the kisses flow then I will disappear

Let me tell you that I love you and I think about you all the time
Caledonia you're calling me and now I'm going home
But if I should become a stranger you know that it would make me more than sad
Caledonia's been everything I've ever had

Dougie MacLean

The Sunday Posts 2014/ Along the Fields

          Along the fields as we came by
          A year ago, my love and I,
          The aspen over stile and stone
          Was talking to itself alone.
          "Oh who are these that kiss and pass?
          A country lover and his lass;
          Two lovers looking to be wed;
          And time shall put them both to bed,
          But she shall lie with earth above,
          And he beside another love.

           And sure enough beneath the tree
          There walks another love with me,
          And overhead the aspen heaves
          Its rainy-sounding silver leaves;
          And I spell nothing in their stir,
          But now perhaps they speak to her,
          And plain for her to understand
          They talk about a time at hand
          When I shall sleep with clover clad,
          And she beside another lad.

AE Houseman
Photo by Alistair.

Remembrance

Remembrance. Today, tomorrow, always.

Sam Robertson. Royal Scots Fusiliers. WWI Gallipoli
Thomas Hughes Royal Flying Corps. WWI France
Sam Robertson RAF Bomber Command 1945
Pride, Respect and Gratitude

A short film made by me. {1st draft}

The Sunday Post/ Remembrance: A Hundred years

Remember today; brothers, fathers and sons.
The blood, the bullets, the terrible guns.
Far away places, far distant times,
Old family portraits, those names brought to mind.
Pause and reflect a moment or two.
But for them it could have been you.

Consider a moment a life unlived
How could it feel,
To give your expected days
And future stolen in myriad ways.
No mark on the world, all your dreams unfulfilled.
No aspirations, no regrets,
No life ever built.

Remember today;  brothers, fathers and sons.
The blood and the bullets, the terrible guns.
Far away places, far distant times,
Old family portraits, those names brought to mind.
Pause and reflect a moment or two.
But for them it could have been you.

Words and image by Alistair.

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The Sunday Posts 2014/ Fields of gold

You'll remember me when the west wind moves
Upon the fields of barley
You'll forget the sun in his jealous sky
As we walk in fields of gold

So she took her love
For to gaze awhile
Upon the fields of barley
In his arms she fell as her hair came down
Among the fields of gold

Will you stay with me, will you be my love
Among the fields of barley
We'll forget the sun in his jealous sky
As we lie in fields of gold

See the west wind move like a lover so
Upon the fields of barley
Feel her body rise when you kiss her mouth
Among the fields of gold

 I never made promises lightly
And there have been some that I've broken
But I swear in the days still left
We will walk in fields of gold
We will walk in fields of gold

Many years have passed since those summer days
Among the fields of barley
See the children run as the sun goes down
Among the fields of gold

You'll remember me when the west wind moves
Upon the fields of barley
You can tell the sun in his jealous sky
When we walked in fields of gold
When we walked in fields of gold

By Sting
Photo by Alistair.