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Poems


McAllister dances before the King

Clansmen
The peats are burning bright.
Sit 'round me in a ring and I will tell you of the great night I danced before the King.

For as a dancer in my youth, so great was my renown;
the King himself invited me to visit London town.
The lovely ladies of the court with jewels and pearls bedecked.
All blushed and trembled as I bowed to them with great respect.

Slowly at first, with hands on hips, I danced with ease and grace.
Then raised my hands above my head and swifter grew the pace.
The King was greatly moved, he took my hand in friendship true.
"Alas" he cried, "although a King, I canna' dance like you."
And then the gracious Queen came shyly up to me.
She pinned a metal on my breast for everyone to see.
And low, her whisper I shall 'no forget, nor how her eyes grew dim.
"Ah, where were you, McAllister, the day I married him?"

At the Odom Library, we always remember Judge Marcus Calhoun reciting this piece at Scottish Weekend! How we miss Judge Calhoun!


Poem to a Piper

'Twas in a crowded hospital in western USA,
A Caledonian, far from home, sick, lonely, dyeing, lay.
"Oh Doctor, could I hear but once, O'r ain pipes again,
I'd shut my e'en and die in peace, in spite of all my pain."

The kindly doctor searched the town, a brother Scot was
found and soon within the hospital the cheery pipes resound
and along the wide corridors the piobaireached echoed clear
until every poor sick suffer heard the Highland tunes so dear.
And by that glorious music, the weary Scot revived,
regained his health and walked abroad! (the other patients died).

Author Unknown
Sent to us by James W. Bell of Arden, North Carolina.


A Piper

He wasn't much of a musician, he was not,
a bunch of lines that are notes to him
looked like nothing more than dots.
A piper? How can I ever be,
Lips don't work, fingers don't work, nor any patience you see.
Yet still he tried - months and years went by,
he had many bitter moments - and he said many
Prayers - and he gazed upon the cloud's in the sky.
Then one day as he was practicing nearby,
it all came together - he looked back and said
Oh me - oh my - with tear swollen eye's...
It was quite a struggle a piper to be,
now I finally am one! A piper as happy as can be
His drones and chanter echoing off the nearby sea,
tears rolled out of the corner of his eyes as he played
that all familiar tune called The Rowan Tree...

Kennedy John Barh, Jr.
Connecticut


To Natalie

The Knoxes came from Renfrewshire
The Martins northern Skye
So highland blood is in your veins
An will be 'till you die.
My little "wee lass" newly born
In nineteen eighty three
McDonalds, Craigs and Stewarts, too
Are watching over thee.
You have a grand old heritage
Of kilts and pipes and stuff,
A bit of love for tartan plaid
But that's not quite enough.
If you will love the Lord as they
And love your family
You'll bless the world as well as self
My darlin' Natalie

Conny McDonald Martin
Lubbock, Texas


The Indispensable Ceilidh Book!