Post by cameroning on Nov 1, 2008 16:43:09 GMT -6
The sentinal stands upon the hill
Waiting for a moment's thrill
In the dawn, no movement yet
Except for dew on branches wet
To most eyes he'd appear to be
The steadfast Cameron oak tree.
Days pass, then months and years
Between the visits he surely fears
And when he does expect it least
Clansmen come up the hill to feast
Upon his branches they do descend
And each snaps off a wee tipped end.
In their tams they place them proud
And from them comes a cheer so loud
"To battle we march, with great speed,
with Lochiel heading pack, in lead
and with these sprigs upon our head,
the enemies will show fear and dread."
The sentinal stands upon the hill,
With clansmen gone, taken their fill
Return they don't, gone for good
From that Lochaber neighborhood
Perhaps one day they'll come home,
To plant oak seedlings where I roam.
Waiting for a moment's thrill
In the dawn, no movement yet
Except for dew on branches wet
To most eyes he'd appear to be
The steadfast Cameron oak tree.
Days pass, then months and years
Between the visits he surely fears
And when he does expect it least
Clansmen come up the hill to feast
Upon his branches they do descend
And each snaps off a wee tipped end.
In their tams they place them proud
And from them comes a cheer so loud
"To battle we march, with great speed,
with Lochiel heading pack, in lead
and with these sprigs upon our head,
the enemies will show fear and dread."
The sentinal stands upon the hill,
With clansmen gone, taken their fill
Return they don't, gone for good
From that Lochaber neighborhood
Perhaps one day they'll come home,
To plant oak seedlings where I roam.
