Remembrance Day

Some one was singing
Up a twisty stair,
A fragment of a song,
One sweet, spring day,
When twelve o’clock was ringing,
Through the sunny square –

‘There was a lad baith frank and free,
Cam’ doon the bonnie banks o’ Dee
Wi’ tartan plaid and buckled shoon,
An’ he’ll come nae mair to oor toon.’ –

‘He dwells within a far countree,
Where great ones do him courtesie,
They’ve gien him a golden croon,
An’ he’ll come nae mair to oor toon.’ –

No one is singing
Up the twisty stair.
Quiet as a sacrament
The November day.

Can’t you hear it swinging,
The little ghostly air?-
Hear it sadly stray
Through the misty square,
In and out a doorway,
Up a twisty stair –
Tartan plaid and buckled shoon,
He’ll come nae mair to oor toon.