McCrae Family Site

A Lost Child ©

Ian McCrae
Sydney, Australia
2003

Out on the moors I lost my way
It was a very misty day,
The line I walked was straight and true
With tears in my eyes, 'Dad where are you?'

I wondered on towards my home
'Dad' I called, 'I am coming home!'
I am only nine years old,
Night was coming and I am cold.

Then I remembered what Dad would do
'Just sit down and I will come to you.'
The night was long and very dark
At daybreak a dog began to bark.

I stood up; the mist had not cleared
A voice, 'Dad' I called, 'I am here!'
The voice began to fade away,
That's when I began to pray.

'Dear Lord! I have lost my way;
My Dad told me not to stray;
I know he was right, I must obey;
My Dad will find me if I stay.'

The tears were rolling down my face
Just then a light - the Lord of Grace,
'The light I saw was faraway'
I sat down determined to stay.

Then at last a voice, that called my name
My Dad's voice, or the very same,
'Dad' I called, 'I am over here!'
'Stay where you are, have no fear!'

I called again and again, 'Dad, I am over here!'
A shadow in the mist, it was my Dad, have no fear,
He took me in his arms, and said;
'It's time that you were in your bed:'

Dad and I are back together
My prayer, I hope, will last forever;
When and if you lose your way,
All you have to do is pray.

A New Tomorrow ©

Ian McCrae
Sydney, Australia
1998

In silence, I said good-bye, a new beginning, a wistful cry,
You're in good hands, my family's there, I leave you in the best of care
For me there waits a new tomorrow, no time for tears, no time for sorrow,
Unfolding dreams, the way ahead, plain sailing until lives ebb.

Hard worked without mishap or chance, surprise I found time for romance,
My wife, and now, our family dear, reward's of joy and sometimes tears.
Looking back in silence, now, I find shadows linger in my mind,
A wish, and then with joy, there is a way, the star of peace, I kneel and pray.
Come home, there waits a new tomorrow, time for joy, then for sorrow,
Brother's that I loved so dear. A moment, while I shed a tear.

Dreams and memories found again, guide me to where there is no pain,
We shared the past, and now with pride, I journey where memories collide,
Forefathers in their vigil, dwell upon the earth,
Guard with childish pride, every single birth.

My parents taught me to care, life moves on, now I can share,
Stories told of days gone bye, of distant lands and battle cries.

Now I live in the land down under, heartache's pain all asunder
Joy and tears, no time for sorrow. This is my land, my new tomorrow.

An Old Armchair ©

Ian McCrae
Sydney, Australia
2003

My parents they are together
God keeps them in his care,
In silence now, no wonder
The old place it looks so bare.

Your chair is always empty now
My heart is filled with pride,
All the things you taught me
You were always by my side.

In the night I hear your voice
Your chair rocks to and fro,
I walk down the stairs to see you
In your place, there is a glow.

We walked the hills together
You always held my hand,
We found a nest up in a tree
My childhood days were grand.

A brazes down in the hallway
I know that you are there,
Your chair is always empty
Life is so unfair.

Your shadow is now fading,
As the days turn into years
I remember all the good times,
But not without a tear:

As I stand beside an old oak tree
Out where the wild wind blows,
I wonder, "Are you watching?"
As your children grow.

Time goes by and seasons change
I hold your memories dear,
Although your chair is empty
I know you're always here.

Back Home In Galloway ©

Ian McCrae
Sydney, Australia
2003

Across a thousand sunsets
I have this childish dream,
A bridge awaits my coming
Or that, is how it seems:

A distant song the bagpipes play
From way beyond my time,
My heart in rhythm with the song
The words, I cannot find.

Across the bridge, time stands still
The summer winds are blowing,
The old place looks the same
I know where I am going.

Down the pathway through the glen
Out where the falcons fly,
An old stone house neglected
I hear a mothers cry.

Unfolding memories as I sleep
The clouds were riding high,
My childhood days recaptured
The night just seemed to fly.

The morning sky is overcast
The shadows seemed to linger,
Haunting voices from the past
I don't need a binder.

As I turned to say goodbye
I just look back to say,
The bridge I crossed will always be
Back home in Galloway.

From My Bedroom Window ©

Ian McCrae
Sydney, Australia
1998

From my bedroom window
I watch the sea and sand,
The fragile beauty of the shore
Untouched by human hand.

The sound of crashing waves
Along the rocky shore,
Echoes in my memory
A sound: that I adore.

The hidden caves are filled
With mysteries from the sea,
A thousand years of Shipwrecks
Lie buried in the lee.

Looking out beyond the crags
The coastlines white with foam,
The artic winds send secret sounds
Wherever natives roam.

Although it's in my memory
And we are far apart,
A seashell held against my ear
Lifts my weary heart.

I know my bedroom window
Is so far away.
The wind still calls it's secret sound
Every: single day.

Galloway All Over ©

Ian McCrae
Sydney, Australia
2003

The warm summer wind
That blows in from the sea,
Carries memories
That are dear to me.

A Silver stream where lovers walk,
There is no need for them to talk,
In silence they walk hand in hand.
Primroses spread out across the land.

Woodlands where the pheasants call,
Daffodils that stand so tall.
A storm is gathering well out to sea,
Fishing boats are now in the lee.

Waves are breaking on the rocks below.
Looking down on the snow,
When the tide begins to ebb,
I walk along the riverbed.

A bunch of blue bells in my hand,
If only I could touch the sand.
Bare feet, I wonder on the shore.
Port Logan beach, I adore.

Great battles were fought
Between the Picts and the Scots,
The truth is lost in the heather.
Myth or Tale, the story will live on forever.

Legend, yarn's, and fables,
Ghosts that move a table.
Phantom children crying,
A rocking chair that's sighing.

A phantom light out on the moor,
Someone's tapping at your door.
Memories from the days of yore
The Galloway: that I adore!

Galloway Folk ©

Ian McCrae
Sydney, Australia
2003

When I was a child so very small
Mum and Dad seemed very tall,
They took my hand and held me tight
And taught me all things that are right.

They told me stories, laughter and songs
Go to the church when things go wrong,
Listen to his words of love
Wisdom comes from heaven above.

All through the winter when in the night
Shadows flickering in the light,
Frosty mornings rain and snow
Tall beach trees and how they grow.

I walked in their shadow
Where the daffodils grow,
I followed the river
Down through the snow.

Over hill and through the glens
Foxes curled up in their den,
Old Meg that lived out on the moors
Cold winter winds that she endured.

Today, and all years past
Love is the only thing that lasts,
If you were loved, pass it on
Mum and Dad have now gone.

Their stories, I hold very dear
Through childhood days and adult years,
Their songs and love are all true,
The love I give is just for you.

Ghosts and Things ©

Ian McCrae
Sydney, Australia
2003

Ghosts, are there such things?
Phantoms are created in our minds,
The child that cries every night
The room is empty, switch on the light.

The coach in the driveway is not there
I thought I saw it, it was so unfair,
The headless man that walks our streets
On sound of footsteps perhaps no feet:

Why is there a lady in a white vale?
Outside a church she looks so pale,
A sailing ship out on the sea
No one on board that one can see.

On the moor I saw a light
There was no stars, no moon that night,
I saw a man just sitting there
Odd to say, there was no one there.

A village, I have never been
And yet I am home, or so it seems,
A Bowling Green down by the river
There is nothing there, was there ever?

Swans I see then very well
A black shed was there, I could tell,
There was no hotel or a pub
Whisky was the only hub.

If all things I saw were unreal
Near the shore, I saw an image of a seal,
A man of copper looking out to sea
Ghosts, are things no one can see?

All through life we know our way
A guardian angel, someone will say,
A gentle breeze on ones ear
We all know the Lord near.

I always know when you are there
If only you could hear my prayer,
Down in the valley, up on the hill
If only! I know it is your will.

Hay Day ©

Ian McCrae
Sydney, Australia
2003

The smell of seaweed on the breeze
The wind is whistling through the trees,
Rain clouds on the far horizon
Making hay, it is enticing.

The weather seems to hold a grudge
The rain clouds they, just won't budge,
Morning tea and after that
There it goes, a thunderclap.

No rain as yet, a flash of lightning
We will all keep on fighting,
Dinnertime, it's holding on
It's one o-clock, the clouds have gone.

Twist and turn the hay is ready
Come on boys keep it steady,
Then I said, It's milking time
It's what: after all, our hard grind.

Go on then, you can do the job
We will stay out here and make a bob,
And don't forget when it's done
Come back here, don't walk if you can run.

The milking is over in a flash
My old man will think, that was fast,
Instead he said with a sneer
It is high time that you were here.

All the hard work has been done
The bailing has now just begun,
I looked at dad, with a plea
Its time we had a cup of tea.

His reply sounded like a blast of thunder
I think it came from deep down under,
Just then the wind began to blow
Then the lightning put on a show.

Thank you dear Lord, no rain as yet,
I would not want the hay to get wet,
The day was finally a complete success
My father's mind is now at rest.

Next day my father came to me
I hope you won't disagree,
Yesterday I was tired out
There was no need for me to shout.

Ian McCrae
Sydney, Australia
2003

The winter when the trees are bare
A moonlit night, time to share,
An old armchair, a fireside
That is where my memories bide.

A puddle on the roadside
Hazel-tree's down in the glen,
Awakening from their winter sleep
It's lambing time again.

A shepherd rugged up from the cold
His walking stick in hand,
The hills are where he works all day
He dearly loves the land.

The mist it swirls and twists
Out where the Curlews call,
Their song lingers on the breeze
As the dusk, begins to fall.

Golden plover fly across the moor
In formation they dip and soar,
Daisy spread out across the fields
Who on earth could ask for more?

Suppertime, hot scones to eat
Time to rest my weary feet,
The family they all come together
Sometimes we discuss the weather.

Time for repose, the day has gone
The green hill is where I belong,
Memories linger the years have gone
I remember now, the old Scots songs.

Bonnie Galloway. Skye Boat Song:
As a youth I could do nothing wrong,
I looked for someone else to blame
Will ye no come Back Again?

I am a Scot, the Battles O'er
Flower of Scotland, I adore,
My Scottish Homeland we all sing together
Scotland now and forever.

McCrae Family Site

A Lost Child ©

A New Tomorrow ©

An Old Armchair ©

Back Home In Galloway ©

From My Bedroom Window ©

Galloway All Over ©

Galloway Folk ©

Ghosts and Things ©

Hay Day ©

I Remember You ©