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Tale # 17
| Open Poetry #45 |
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Tale # 17 |
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Gunslinger Senior Member
since 1999-10-09
Posts 901TX, USA 
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From Russian steppes to Africa- I've plied me bloody trade. An' few an' far between, the friends- I guess tha' I 'ave made. The blade's me tool, me toil, my friend.. An' oft she's saved me life. I love 'er well, I must confess- Like some lads love their wife. I 'ad a 'ome, I swear I did- Among the 'ighland 'eath... An' yet I 'ad a yearn to roam, Me Da', 'e did bequeath. When I were scarce more than a lad- I offed to see the world- An' oft I've stood in battle grim, Whilst pipes aroun' me skirled. Ah, gi' me pipes.. 'tis rarely fine... To 'ear them bye an' bye... Their shriek an' skirl, to enemies- Mought be the banshee's cry! I've loved me lassies, fought me wars... An' 'eard the widows wail... An' of I am, to fight again- Thus goes the Traveler's Tale. |
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| © Copyright 2009 John R. Yaws - All Rights Reserved | |||
Alison 
since 2008-01-27
Posts 9318Lumpy oatmeal makes me crazy! |
I love the pipes and I love the tales. A |
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Marchmadness Member Rara Avis
since 2007-09-16
Posts 9271So. El Monte, California |
I love the sound of bagpipes and I can almost hear them in this. Ida |
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miscellanea Member Elite
since 2004-06-24
Posts 4060OH |
Really enjoyed your tale and the dialect! I look forward to reading more. miscellanea |
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