Dear Diary Page 5…
While being different, in history’s past, I learned to play the Great Highland Bagpipe, but no more, ran out of wind ( I know you probably find that hard to believe.. 🙂 ) and Bree don’t like the noise… but who knows, perhaps one day, should you venture onto the path least traveled, there in the distance, comes the faint sound of the highland pipes, and who knows, it may very well be me….if Fate is willin’ and the creeks don’t rise..
Taroluths, Lemlouths and grace notes
A double B, double D and ending in C,
All part of the great music
Of the Great Highland Pipes, don’t you see.
Highland Laddie, Scotland the Brave
Flower of Scotland and many more,
Piped many a brave lad
Into the jaws of war.
Heard my first highland pipes in ‘63
As Her Majesty’s Black Watch came ashore,
Marching in dress ranks
Like they were going to war.
I purchased my highland pipes
From Scotland’s highland clan Mcleod,
A pretty sight to behold
And.. Yes… they were loud.
Through shear determination
I finally learned to play,
Didn’t have a teacher
To help me along the way.
Played for myself for the most part
Played in a march or two,
But, alas, my time would come
When my playing days would be through.
My highland pipes are still now
The silence is so forlorn,
My hands no longer nimble
Battle scared and worn.
The pipes are quiet now
But I am waiting for the day,
When I once again hear
The Great Highland pipes play.
Perhaps to be the last sound I hear
Echoing over rock and loam,
As the Great Highland pipes
Pipe this old soldier home.
(Penned by Larry “Dutch” Woller July 2010)