I have no Scots blood in me, but maybe it;;s because as a young boy I saw a French and Indian War re-enactment or two. One day when I was in high school I was walking around the woods (now sadly big homes are there). Hearing the sounds of the pipes, I followed themj chatted with the young woman, whom I knew slightly.
Kilt-clad, reed-playing pipers
In a circle arranged between-
The trees there- lightly played
The drummers, softly touching
The drum skins, stroking them
As they would a child’s silken hair.
Around them all, the trees’ tartans
Falling downward. Suddenly,
There between branch and ground,
Wrinkled leaf did meet\the highland tune
And for an instant- danced, gaily skipping=
Before falling down, ever down, until
Touching ever-increasing piles.
A charmed moment appeared to me.
Once again I am three feet tll.
The wooden palisades, the oak and maple
Hills are glowing in October.
The melody-laden air cuts sword-like
Emory’s thread and I clutch my book
And depart.
Arthur Turfa, copyright 1974, 2016
In a circle arranged between-
The trees there- lightly played
The drummers, softly touching
The drum skins, stroking them
As they would a child’s silken hair.
Around them all, the trees’ tartans
Falling downward. Suddenly,
There between branch and ground,
Wrinkled leaf did meet\the highland tune
And for an instant- danced, gaily skipping=
Before falling down, ever down, until
Touching ever-increasing piles.
A charmed moment appeared to me.
Once again I am three feet tll.
The wooden palisades, the oak and maple
Hills are glowing in October.
The melody-laden air cuts sword-like
Emory’s thread and I clutch my book
And depart.
Arthur Turfa, copyright 1974, 2016
Tha' was nae the lassie!
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