Читать книгу Remembrance and Gratitude: A Selection of Poems and Writings - Charles F. Meek - Страница 10

A Mother’s Son

I always wanted to be a soldier, just like my Dad

That’s what his Mum said, about her bonnie wee lad

The years went by, he grew up strong

And still in the Army, is where Jamie longed.

The day came when Jamie sailed away

His Mum on the shore, praying he’d return one day

Jamie wrote to his darlin’ Mum

Hello Mum, this is Jamie your loving son.

The guns are loud, the cannons are screaming

Coming home is what I’m dreaming

I can hear the pipes, I can hear them playing

We’re coming home, they seem to be saying.

The pipes they played for a soldier’s son

Who fought the battle, and fought and won

Jamie’s Mum at the station was waiting

A pain in her heart, the tension was creating.

The crowd that gathered to see their village son

All were there for Jamie’s Mum

The pipes were playing The Battles O’er

As the train pulled in, they opened the carriage door.

The flag draped coffin, was carried shoulder high

As the rifles fired into a cloudless sky

Jamie’s home, he was one of the best

The pipes were playing, as he was laid to rest.

A soldier he was, from the cradle to the grave

For his country’s freedom, his life he gave

Jamie’s home, he was one of the best

The pipes were playing, as Jamie was laid to rest.