Wee Laddie
The wee laddie marched on as he played.
Stalwart did he seem; to watch, I stayed.
The bagpipes were piping loud and clear;
Crowds began to gather close to hear.
His kilt swayed so gently in the breeze.
Ev'ry song he played, the crowd did please.
I thought as I saw him standing tall,
Surely Love inspired him, was his call.
The wee laddie played and marched along,
Round and round his stage with ev'ry song.
Now and then someone would wipe a tear,
As his music roused a mem'ry dear.
The melodies, yes, one that I heard,
Resounding as sweetly as a bird,
Showed me the wee laddie in each man,
Softly playing bagpipes in God's plan.
W. Diane Van Zwol©
Published in 'The Sounds of Silence'
'The National Library of Poetry' anthology
1998
Ev'ry song he played, the crowd did please.
I thought as I saw him standing tall,
Surely Love inspired him, was his call.
The wee laddie played and marched along,
Round and round his stage with ev'ry song.
Now and then someone would wipe a tear,
As his music roused a mem'ry dear.
The melodies, yes, one that I heard,
Resounding as sweetly as a bird,
Showed me the wee laddie in each man,
Softly playing bagpipes in God's plan.
W. Diane Van Zwol©
Published in 'The Sounds of Silence'
'The National Library of Poetry' anthology
1998
Water color painting by Greg Zelinski
Art reproduction - TDI Systems Ontario
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