THE LAMENT
For the first time in ages I heard bagpipes play the Last Lament,
Played in an old church yard and on the summer breeze was sent
Far over the countryside, it’s haunting sound gliding so clear,
As if the whole of nature that melody wanted quietly to hear,
The mourners gained comfort from that enchanting sound
As they waited for their loved one to be placed in the ground,
Still as stone the piper stood, just his kilt blowing in the breeze,
His arm and fingers hardly moving as he played with such ease.
Long after the pipes had ceased to play that sweet lament,
I heard it in the voice of the wind as it the trees gently bent,
It was in the rustle of the grass, in the song of each bird,
And when I walk by the lake that haunting sound was heard.
Thank you, piper, for playing well that special peaceful song,
It helped me remember all those who’d been gone so long,
It is not a song of sorrow to me, the lament, but brings peace,
Knowing that the love we share, will always last and never cease.
(Millicent) Ann Margetson June 30, 2003