Dear Hazel
Thank you for this. These poems would be a great addition to the individuals story, we would love to publish them. if you are in agreement.
regards
Pete
Scone Remembers

Whar wis the place
He laid his bonny heid
For that last time?
Salonica! Whit a name!
Nae warm freendly
Perthshire hame,
But a sodden,sullen
Foreign bield
In a far land.

Whit God could steal
Her man awa’?
Her man who’d focht
For fower hard years
Tae mak a world
O’ peace and hope.
And noo he’s lying
Dead and cauld
In a far land.

My grandfather called my grandmother his Rose of Tralee. This is also for them from their grandchildren in loving memory – the children of wee Lizzie who never knew her dad.

The Song
‘Gi’e your love to me
Ma”Rose of Tralee”‘
He would lilt when they were first wed.
‘A’ll gi’e ye ma love’ she wid whisper sae shy
As they lay in the warmth o’ their bed.

‘Gi’e yer hand tae me
Ma ‘Rose of Tralee’
He wid urge when her trials had begun.
‘A’ll gi’e ye ma haund’ she wid whisper sae fierce
Fir oor bairnie will syne be born.

‘Gi’e yer prayers tae me
Ma “Rose of Tralee” ‘
He asked as he marched tall and proud.
‘A’ll gi’e ye ma prayers’ she whispered sae sad,
But the war songs were roaring too loud.

‘Gi’e yer tears fir yer da
Ma bonnie wee bairns,
Fir his body lies ower the sea,
And never again will his sweet voice ring oot
As he sings me ‘The Rose of Tralee,.
Hazel Archibald 1915.