Posted by Ossian Gunn, the Scotian Poet of Caithness and the Orkney Isles on October 01, 2000 at 11:47:32:
May St. Andrew bless this poor poetry!
X
Waiting......
Standing in ranks, silently watchful.
The 77th, our Grenadiers, and Others.
Waiting...waiting...waiting...
For the onslaught, the battle to begin.
The Captain and Three Campbells.
Corporal MacWilliam and Brother Gunn.
Waiting...waiting...waiting...
In the eye of the storm.
Armstrong drumming, JohnsTon pensive,
MacGregor surley, Glen pondering.
Waiting...waiting...waiting...
As the lull becomes deafening.
MacCrimmon piping, MacFarland with set lips.
MacPherson glaring, Sutherland with gritted teeth.
Waiting...waiting...waiting...
The silence is a roar.
And the others, well we know.
Tales, Flags, Seamus, vigilant and quiet.
Waiting...waiting...waiting...
The smell of death wafts closer.
Bright muskets and swords gleaming.
Honed dirks and fierce tempers.
Waiting...waiting...waiting...
With bayonets sharp and piercing.
So our heroes wait in duty.
Prepared for the last Huzzah!
Waiting...waiting...waiting...
We await the end of the Chronicles.
......the last to be heard of Ossian Gunn.......