I tend to come here often.
I tend to come here often.
Seasons drift so quickly
Beneath the single sky
A lesson in the making
All things must come to die
Therein lies the silence
The journey beyond the breath
To flowers in the forest
We've now become in death
But speak of the glint of the eye
Reflected in Damascus Blade
For those who saw freedom & honour
And in battle their lives they gave
So take heart men of Scotland
Know your deeds will endure the night
Live on as flowers in the forest
Live on, within God's light
--Paul Watson
For we are, each of us, a collection of memories
Our personalities are the collective result of
everything that has happened to us, yeah it is at the
end of the day we look back upon the days and years
through the looking glass of memory.
And when we are gone, we become a part
of the memories And personalities of others.
--Steve McDonald
I'll never blame...my partial fancy
naething could resist...my Nancy.
But to see her was to love her
love but her, love forever.
Had we never loved sae kindly,
had we never loved so blindly.
Never met or never parted,
we had ne'er been broken hearted.
--Robert Burns
From the lands to the north
to the western Isles
the the land across the sea.
The warrior king stands
proud and strong,
a fearful sight he be.
In foreign lands with ancient tongue
he won his battle fame,
The widows cry and
strong men cower,
whene're cried out his name.
--Steve McDonald
Sweet highland flower sweeo o'er the hills
my love and I will go.
Sweet morning mist like lovers kiss,
her fragrance lingers so.
In loving days we walk and play
and drink the lovers' wine
and pick for her my love of loves
the wild mountain thyme.
--Steve McDonald
Of days winter and cold I watch from sunbleached sands
And look beyond the sky's edge toward this other land.
Pride flows hot in the eager blood born unto this place.
But to the past I would follow away from this time and space.
Thoughts create reflection of thistle and tartan splendour.
Old worlds renewed like the lover's kiss, I crave the sweet and tender.
One foot leading to the future, the other in yesteryear.
Many generations have left her shores, yet still I must travel there.
And born far away I hear the call, my feelings forever roam.
Two worlds two minds I live them both, this new land
and Scotland...my homes...
--Paul Watson
Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled
Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled!
Scots, whan Bruce has often led,
Welcome to your gory bed,
Or to victory!
Now's the day, and now's the hour;
See the front o' battle lour;
See approach proud Edward's power,
Chains and slavery!
Wha will be a traitor knave?
Wha can fill a cowardis grave?
Wha so base as be a slave
Let him turn and flee.
Wha for Scotland's king and law,
Freedom's sword will strongly draw,
Freeman stand, or freeman fa'
Let him follow me!
By oppression's woes and pains,
By your sons in servile chains,
We will drain our dearest veins,
But they shall be free.
Lay the proud usurpers low!
Tyrants fall in every foe!
Liberty's in every blow!
Let us do or die!
--Robert Burns
The morning after the battle...
Left are only the dead and dying...
With only the occasional pauper looting the bodies,
A young man, not much more than a boy lies mortally wounded,
Staring into the sky, his life flashes before him,
and near that moment of death he cries out for his mother's embrace.
Amidst his pain, she hears, and amidst her tears, he feels.
It is said in Scottish mythology, that those who fell in battle would return as "Flowers in the Forest".
How often, it happened, that many a young mother's son
was cut down in his prime during the onor of battle.
--Steve McDonald
The ancient lands of our forefathers sing
Of a time long gone of the warrior King
A land so green now buried in time
But memory lives on like a well aged wine
Through viking rule and Roman quest
The culture strong Survived the test
Two thousand years of love and war
Dwells deep in mind behind the door.
--Steve McDonald
In misty glen and wind blown hill
In evening dusk and morning chill
Some see her dance in forest deep
or hear hr voice in soft repeat,
For she is a spirit with an endless song
For the perfect love she's searched for so long.
--Steve McDonald
