Ingle Ken’lt
       “Hearth Rekindled”
From the northern white of the winter’s snow –
From the eastern blue of the spring’s new moon –
From the western red of the summer’s sun –
From the southern gold of the autumn’s leaves –
Come coals from the hearth’s flame,
Entrusted to the hands of friends.
Though the fire has died in the ancestral home,
Its spirit remains alive.
When touched to wood in the new laid hearth,
The warmth is rekindled again.

For warmth is friendship,
And friendship is love,
And love is bestowed up on all.
Let the door fore’er be open –
Let the cawther run free. 
It is sung far and wide,
That this ever may be.

The home is the hearth.
The hearth is the flame.
The flame is the spirit of love.
Let all know, from whence they came,
They are warmed by this hearth and this flame.
      
                        Pat Mestern c1984
    

To those with confidence,
  And hopes so sweet;
  The future is a challenge,
  Laid at your feet.

Look to a horizon,
  To collect success complete;
  Where heart, mind and soul,
  Have hopes so sweet

For your mind and your soul,
  The journey is not far;
  For they have the wings,
  To reach any star.

But our heart
  Must depend on our feet;
  And talent – and confidence,
  That don’t always meet.

There is a journey,
  Called life complete;
  Needing talent and confidence,
  And willing feet.

There is a horizon,
  With dreams complete;
  That every heart longs,
  For hopes so sweet.

(c) Pat Mestern 2006

I hae a good life in this land.
  There’s flame on the hearth,
  An’ meat in the pan,
  A roof o’erhead
  And bairns tae love.

Yet –
  My heart’s awa’
  Tae the Highlands awa’

I hae land for the tilling,
  An’ cattle in the byre
  I hae wood for my fire,
  And clan-folk near.

Yet –
  My heart’s awa’
  Tae the Highlands awa’

There are deer on the meadow.
  An’ bear in the hills.
  There are sheep in the pasture,
  And wheat in the fields.

Yet –
  My heart’s awa’
  Tae the Highlands awa’

I hae not the heather on far reaching hills.
  I hear not the pipes in the glen.
  I see not fast waters flow from
  highlands to loch.
  I feel not the fire in the auld hame ingle.

Aye –
  My heart’s awa’
  Tae the Highlands awa’
  And e’er it shall be
  This new, wild land called Canada
  will ne’er capture me.

(C) Pat Mestern 2006