Walking Long ~ Marching From The Highlands ~ Milady Loch Lomond

 
   Long marching

   From Cairngorms
 
 
   Ben Nevis from Glen Coe


                Crossing Strathmore Syncline

          Down from Inverness

         My Lass, my Lady

         Milady Loch Lomond

   To Edinburgshire

   Three hundred years

   From highlands marching

   From Gaelic lilt Midlothian,

    You heard the bagpipes

    Sharp tumbling crisp

    The notes they came for you

     From highlands marching

     A Falcon in the distance,

     The lover's thighs

     Slapping strides,

     Against a warrior's kilt

 

      Pressing the belly's heat

      Dreams of sweat and sweet

      The seeds that aged like wine

      And Winter wheat,

       From highlands marching

       Wee red haired boy,

       And darkly Scot, a sister borne

       Blood warmth, Love's long honor

        And fortnights of soft the voices

        Beneath the North Gales

        Ripping the sky of early 'morn,

        Heart charms and long hidden

        From the Anglo Saxon battle axe,

        Clarioned calls from the hill lands

        From the foremother

        Trumpets of dreamers,

        Steep stepping down

        The music of the Wind

        Marching the Highlands

        Three hundred years,

        My Lass, my Lady,

        Milady Loch Lomond

        We died for you,

        We died for England,

          Mother's milk Clan Lawton

          From the Crown to distant land

          Her sons fell into oceans

          Laid down in fire, parched in sand,

            Still it was for our Mary

            One full century, in our hearts,

            The Queen of Scots, we did carry

              Albeit ghosts of other Marys,

              Mary Tudor, Bloody Mary l,

              Mary ll and Oliver Cromwell,

              An English son,

                 Tho it be our Scotland,

                 My Lasse, my Lass,

                 Milady Loch Lomond

                 Three hundred years,

                 From highlands marching,

                 It is our Scotland and

                Gaelic scroll unfurled

                Across these centuries,

               That brings me on bended knee

                As i kneel before thee,

                My sword sheathed,

                My armour by my side,

                 Your image mottled

                 Through the prisms of tears

                   So long has been my journey,

                   So long these three hundred years,

              And though this moment's dream

              Be forsooth, the wishing heart's

              Journey long to rest with thee

                   Now and in the coming morn'

                   When we as sailboats in the sky

                   Ride once again,

                   Upon the Highland wind
 

                As a thousand years of starlight

                Collecting in the moment

                Swash to turn and spin,

                    For it is here,

                    My Lass, my Lady

                    Milady Loch Lomond

                    Eternity and remembrance

                    Shall begin.

 

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