I need to know what troubles me and need to realise
To see what others see, through teardrops in my eyes
In Pittsfield Massachusetts, I sang with Larry Bart
Folksongs lit the campfire and feelings warmed the heart
Faded Friends return to greet me
Singing softly, smiling softly
Faded Friends from years gone by
Share my thoughts before I die
I need to know what vexes me and
need to understand
I need to be alone again to touch each grain of sand
In Tema, West Africa, not far from east Accra
Julie Nii-Moi was my Black Star, Childless Mother, Africa!
Faded Friends return to greet me
Drumming softly, drumming quickly,
Friends for life and friends for after
Share my joy of love and laughter.
A Reflective
poem
Why cold hearts of stone?
They'll never reach the throne.
No matter who they serve
They'll never have the nerve
that keeps us unified
Until the day we've died
In peace and harmony
When God will bless that day.
It could have been right here
9/11, Dumfries, a tear.
But did it matter where?
As if we couldn't care?
Of course we do.
Stand firm and true.
Love will conquer all
To make the Devil fall.
Don't
take out of life what you won't put in...
It's What We Make It
It’s sad not bad
Sometimes
It's bad and sad
Too often
It’s fine and good
Just as it should
At times
It’s good but slow
I know you know
Quite often.
It’s right and fair
But oh so rare
Out there
It’s there then gone
But still goes on
It’s mine it's yours
It’s ours, of course,
It's what we make it.
She walked her dog though stooped
by old age
Her eyesight was fading removed from each page
No matter the weather each day without fail
In sun and in rain, in snow and in hail
Prince was led on his lead through the park
By the river sometimes but never when dark.
We met now and then through the
medium of dogs
Without them I doubt if we’d exchange many words
I learned that she taught many years in the town
She remembered the pupils though they were all grown
Now in her nineties, life was beginning to ebb
Both on her and on Prince, caught in its web
No walks, no lead, no dog now
to see
The ambulance came to her home around three
The sirens were loud and the lights flashing blue
The mourners formed an orderly queue.
I still walk my dog but I noticed
last week
That Prince was enjoying some hide and some seek
A young lad was throwing his ball to and fro
Prince knew at once where to run and to go
Then I thought for a moment on what I was seeing
A change of pace, of trust and of being
What a Best Friend really is.
We live in communities all over
the world
A cacophony of voices is seldom unheard
We sing and we laugh, we speak and we shout
We sleep at home but then always go out
Returning so tired at the end of the day
We seem to be itchy, it’s often that way.
We pick on the person whose nearest
at first
Explode our ill feeling aloud in a burst
The truth is it lies in the problem somewhere
A touch too loud music, a mess on the stair
We all can find fault, it’s not easily hid
More difficult I guess, to get permanently rid.
This time it’s my fault, the next time is yours
And sometimes it’s not clear, only rumours.
So if mea culpa, then say sorry
now
Do it today - it ends every row.
For you are all neighbours you need to get on
Harbour no ill wills, make sure they’re all gone.
Pick up the spirits and get on with the day
Life is for living the communal way.
Respect others feelings as you’d like them to be
Then they’ll respond, in all honesty.
Neighbours are not just ‘them on the stairs’
Each of us must be a neighbour who cares.
A crocodile born in Nigeria, was sad and lonely all day
Born with no teeth to eat, to kill or hunt its prey.
It saw no future in Africa, life was really so sad
No friends came to play on the Niger, yet he was really so good
and not bad.
A migrating swallow then spoke to it. It came from the old river
Nith
It told of friendly people, Doon Hamers, their Kin and their
Kith
So the Crocodile swam and it swam, it swam and swam every day
The water grew colder and colder, then it reached the shores
of Solway
From there to Dumfries was a doddle, it found home on a bank
at Lochside
And a friend aged five, called Colin, met him each day at low
tide
To make himself really useful, Colin asked if he'd do a few jobs
Like clean the river of rubbish, of prams and mobiles and knobs
The Police were exceedingly happy. Lost property lay on the banks
Most was returned to their owners with varying degrees of thanks.
The town's regular winter flooding got the council greatly involved
But dredging was in the Croc's nature, so the floods were permanently
solved.
Early every morning, between the
hours of two and three
The Croc would leave the river and the town he'd go to see
His sharp claws scraped the streets, the Chewing gum did vanish
And with his tail he wiped away, Graffiti words to banish
At lambing time each year, farmers counted all their flocks
Exposure to rain and frost claimed some, for others hungry hawks
Some fell into the Nith, wandering through a fragile fence
But the Crocodile scooped up many, thus saving farmers pence
Then quite by chance the Croc discovered his teeth were now growing
This put at risk the boys and girls who used the Nith for rowing
So Colin said that home is where he now should spend his days
But thanks to him, the Crocodile, we've learned to mend our ways
The croc has returned to the Niger and he's happy to greet all
he meets,
He tells of his days in cold Scotland and the mornings he cleaned
up Dumfries.
But this tale is more than a story, a lesson to learn this day.
Keep your town and river tidy, its good to look that way.
For if you don't remember then guess what we will find?
A Croc with long sharp teeth will have your name in mind!
A song for the pupils of this
Tayside Primary School who
raised over £2,000 for the Asia Earthquake in Oct 05.
I was the camp manager at Mundihar caring for more than
2,000 refugees and now give talks. First stop the pupils
who gave their pocket money, to show how Aid works...
C Am Dm G7
Invergowrie Primary School, has made its mark abroad
C Am Dm G7
Money raised for Pakistan was never ever stored
C G
You came to school, dressed as you pleased
C G
A dodge ball game, was fun it seemed
F G7
You raised more money still
C Am Dm G
With proceeds of the Christmas Fair, which rang a busy till
Em Am
CH Earthquakes shake the land
Em Am
Bring death, disease and sorrow
C G
Love, concern and Aid
G7 C
Will build a new Tomorrow
C Am Dm G7
So tents were put up quickly, white tents in the snow
C Am Dm G7
Young children lost their way, they knew not where to go
C G C G
But soon the Camp meant food, blankets and a school
C G C G
Classes were in blue tents, not mixed as a rule.
F G7
Life began again but it was cold
C Am Dm G7
Winter was approaching, not welcomed by the old.
CHORUS
C Am Dm G7
Camp doctors came from Cuba, wounds to mend and wounds to
heal
C Am Dm G7
Water tankers came each day, for the cooking of a meal
C G C G
At four o'clock precisely, with no need for a ticket
C G C G
Everyone took part, in playing the game of cricket
F G7
And when the darkness came
C Am Dm G7
They huddled in their blankets, sheltered from the rain.
CHORUS
C Am Dm G7
The camps are now all closed. They live in warmer days
C Am Dm G7
Their tents are now back home, in Kashmir's sad sunrays
C G C G
Days to clear the land, in hope to build once more
C G C G
With heavy metal sheeting and wooden beams galore
F G7 F G7
They see a brighter future, they no longer seem to worry
F G7 F G7
It's because of each of you, at this school in Invergowrie
CHORUS
F G7 F G7
They see a brighter future, they no longer seem to worry
C G7 F G C
It's because of each of you, at this school in Invergowrie.
I see again
the leaves of Autumn in the winding Glen
Russet and gold they shimmer in the rain
and then -
I see again
The little river thrusting thro' the Glen
Its troubled waters flung with might and main
and then -
I see the silent river
And dead leaves stiff with rime
While soft the snow falls ever
For now't is winter time
I see again-
The dancing daffodils, and, hearing song
Of cockoo,
know that summer comes ere long
And then-
In village gardens flowers
Fresh-stained in myriad hues
And people passing hours
Telling village news
I see it all
And hear the gossip when it comes my way
But, absent, distant, tho' now survey, recall.
By the late Rev James Caldwell
If a young boy has an older sister,
he will never forget
her influence...
Freedom's what you gave to me
To choose a love one day
Now I've found my pure delight
So you see in song I say:
I'm happy just to see you now
and then will do me fine
The process of our ageing mirrors your face on to mine
Getting younger isn't easy
And that isn't on my mind
Your love's the love my sister,
Of a loving trusting kind.
Gun restrictions NOW before another
tragedy .
Oh America why, oh why?..
WE Mourn With You America
More lives lost so needlessly and so vital
Death sprawled on campus red on green
Robbing us of wise words not yet said
And half books still without a title.
New generations born but not matured
Proud parents bereft of achievement
Graduations annulled. Love lost.
Regained in painful bereavement.
But America why is it so?
Gun control is urgently needed
Before more news of woe.
The 1st of December brrrrrrrr...it's
cold
Now I feel it. I guess I am old.
Finding things hard to remember
Today is December, yesterday November
Changes are what frightens me most
Who cares then, if I burn the toast
Think I'll give up driving too
Yet still lots of things and chores to do
Dog put down a few days ago
Collapsing often and moving so slow.
But tragedy places it all in perspective
And my pitfalls are merely somewhat reflective
of life as it is and knowing my friends.
Like all on this site, around the world's ends.
For more will follow as the month goes by
Christmas soon . Progress can't deny.
SOUP
FOR HIAWATHA (in trochaic tetrameter!)
Boil the water in the kettle,
empty it into a pot
Cut the garlic, and the onion, wash the lentils quite a lot.
Slice the squash and leek and onion
Cry with tears of happiness.
Carrot, garlic, red potato, bay leaf, pepper but no salt.
See the froth fall and rise, from
the gathering in the pot
Skim the froth into a cup, careful now, for it is hot
Lower heat and make a coffee, Terry’s gone now, Ken is
on.
Sing along if you know it, add a cube of chicken stock.
Squeeze tomato pureé gently, stir with vigour, lower heat
Open wide the kitchen window, hear the sounds of cars compete
Twenty minutes after cooking,
liquidise the soup you’ve made
Smell aromas most inspiring, wash the ladle and the pot.
Add a knob of saltless butter, let it cool, and go to shop.
See the tins in Tesco sitting,
instant that and instant this
Stock again the main ingredients, chat to friends, you’ve
really missed.
They will see you’ve cut your finger, lift it up and then
explain
Cutting garlic isn’t easy, sharp the blade and sharp the
pain.
Then for tea-time, set the table,
fork and knife and pudding spoon
Taking pride of place beside them place sit the bulbous soup
spoon doon
Set a place-mat and a coaster on to which cold water place
Serve the soup then with eyes closed, bow your head, and say
the Grace
By the shore of River Nith. By
the shining Solway Sea
Works an author making soup, writer’s block made recipe.
