A Call from Home ©
What is it that calls me home?
Green fields or an old Scots poem,
Is it the rhythm of the sea?
Childhood memories dear to me:
Is it the way that people talk?
Long summer nights out for a walk,
Brethren in a common stand
We are at peace with the land.
Looking out across the moors
Sitting down along the shore,
Listening to the seagulls cry
Or a Sunday morning fry?
Is it the way that people think?
A simple nod, then a wink,
A rainy night out on a spree
A walk along, the river Dee:
Visit old friends from the past
Another day a pleasant task,
Mists rolling down the glen
Sometimes, I just need a friend.
One day your call I will obey
Reminds me of another day,
Far away and over the sea
From childhood, I remember thee.
The Celtic cross as I recall,
Forefathers are the ones, who call,
My home, my land, I have forsaken
Sometimes I know my heart is aching.