A Solitary Piper

A special request from my archives, and I was that girl

Clad in the tartan of his clan

a piper played a sore lament,

beside the margin of a loch

he piped alone to his content.

Across the vastness he addressed

the lonely depths ten fathoms deep,

the agonies of battles lost

and deeds of men to make one weep.

Gun-metal grey Autumnal sky,

a glint of sunlight through the cloud,

a shaft of gold cast wide its net

as piper's notes were carried loud

and echoed all around the glen

to bounce off rippled water clear.

For all that he both knew and loved

was in this place he held so dear.

Beneath a canopy of trees

of layered ochre, rust-brown skirts,

a woman of but twenty years

watched him in silence, felt his hurt.

A rugged, solitary Scot,

mature in looks, so unaware

that he had touched a stranger's heart

when melancholy filled the air.

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

nature, humans, the integration, the questions asked of each other in silence...i remember finding a small bird at my folk's house on the lake...saved it from drowning...nursed it back to health...it stuck around for a few days even after it could fly...there is some kind of understanding developed...was.
this reminds me of Frost...
j.

[Chris Shaw]

Thank you Jacob. It is a wonderful feeling, that blending into the natural environment. Never forgotten that piper.

Chris

[Patricia Wedel]

dearest Chris… we often listen to the Bag Pipes of Scotland on U-Tube… a mournful sound that grieves as the Sun goes down. Your poetry is always Deep as the Sun sinks beneath the Horizon. tenderly, Pat

[Chris Shaw]

Many thanks Pat for giving this old poem an airing. A memory from when my mum and dad were living in West Lothian in Scotland and I was visiting and doing some sight seeing. I love the sound of bag piões. Happy Thursday to you and yours.

Chris

[Patricia Wedel]

I had a step-daughter Cheryl who learned to play the Bag Pipes, because her father was Scottish. Traditions are Beautiful.. hugs, Pat

[Gee]

For me the best way to listen to the bag pipes is from a distance, preferably just far enough away not to be able to hear them. I think treading on a cats tail would produce a far better sound :)
That being said you have again produced another very well written poem on the subject, with of course a CAS sprinkle of starfish thrown in.
Good morning Christine, hope you are prepared for Britain to grind to a halt, we have SNOW....AAAAAAAAARGHHHHHHHHH

[Chris Shaw]

Hello again Gee. How can't you love the bagpipes. Another one hailing from up there yonder who can't abide the pipes. Same as Lorry. Yep the snow is quite deep up here and I doubt that the buses will be able to get to our heights today. Keep warm.

Chris

[NotUsinganymore]

Very nice, sometimes it's best to be alone and live with your sorrow. I enjoyed this poem.

[Chris Shaw]

Thank you Jung Lee. I appreciate your visit.

Chris

[John Alexander McFadyen]

A lovely and well described sortie into my homelands culture with the eye of a young lady turning it to a melancholy and romantic piece indeed.

[Chris Shaw]

You have a very beautiful homeland and my only regret is that I haven't visited more. This memory stayed with me many years before I wrote the poem, and that piper certainly turned my eye when I was twenty. Many thanks for your lovely review John Alexander McFadyen. Happy you visited.

Chris

[Einstein Noodle]

i think you are such a pro Christine! it surely shows ... what a beautiful poem ... emotive, descriptive, engaging and deepens with your closing verse ... i love the characters in the mix of nature ... and your center being the piper ... kind of a play on words says i ... the bird and/or the musician ;) .. i am lulled into melancholy and a sad refrain ... how well i remember that love from afar ... i was quite shy in my youth ... tho i did write to Rosemary of my love ... in invisible ink ;)) she asked me if it was i ... which i of course denied .... what a fine poem ... enjoyed with re-reading even more
E.
ps in V2 L6 do you mean off instead of "of" ?

[Chris Shaw]

Dear Mr E. I do love your reviews and I am smiling about your writing in invisible ink. You are correct about the typo. I would like to say it was deliberate, but it wasn't :) I have never forgotten those moments when melancholy filled the air, and the piper being so handsome really turned my head :) Thank you so much.

Chris

[Einstein Noodle]

makes for dreaming ...

[Chris Shaw]

It does indeed. Brings some warmth on a cold day :)

[.]

Very descriptive and full of imagery.....

This one made me think of 'Outlander'; with its Scottish clans, castles and kilts, and of course the haunting tunes of the bagpipes. Aside from the violin, there is no other instrument that can capture melancholy and mourning quite like the bagpipes. It may be derided in some circles as an instrument but it is stirring with its beauty of sound that it creates. Your poem, with its flow and rhyme, certainly does justice to its theme, one that is inventive and gently moving to the reader.

I enjoyed this one very much, Christine. Delicately romantic, poignant and as, always, well written and conceived. A fine piece of writing.

[Chris Shaw]

You are so right about the bagpipes capturing melancholy Doodley. Thank you so much for your wonderful review. All good wishes.

Chris

[Levi Levin]

You did a great job with this...we never know who we are touching in this life.

[Chris Shaw]

Thank you Levi. I am grateful for your visit.

Chris

[Coyote Poetry]

A wonderful poem shared dear Chris.
"A rugged, solitary Scot,
mature in looks, so unaware
that he had touched a stranger's heart
when melancholy filled the air."
The above lines. Perfect. What we see, teach-us, the emotions of another. Thank you my friend for sharing the amazing poetry.
Coyote

[Chris Shaw]

We do learn much by using our observational skills. Good for poetry, good for painting. Thank you Coyote.

Chris

[Coyote Poetry]

I go to Veteran days activities early. Us, old soldiers stand quiet. Men, who saw war and lost friends to war. Prefer to remember and pray alone. A powerful poem dear Chris and you are welcome.

[Chris Shaw]

That's what the piper was doing Coyote and I felt it.

[Ted Kniffen]

A brilliant bit here, Chris. There is nothing more haunting or stirring that the sound of the pipes on a crisp fall evening. The image you painted of the piper and the woman surely is perfect.

A good write.

[Chris Shaw]

It was a wonderful and memorable moment in time Ted. Pleased to share it with you. Thank you.

Chris