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Array
(
[sid] => 171198
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => TIMES TWO
[time] => 2012-03-08 03:26:15
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] =>  I don’t believe in reincarnation That's a philosophy I can't espouse. But I have the blood of forefathers Running through veins in the here and now. I found a painting of that Scottish poet. Compared to my photo I was stunned. At twenty one we looked like brothers And signatures are alike as one. Rabbie wrote prose for his neighbors. His fame grew when he was gone. I am called Robby by my family And been called Rabbie’s grandson. Even though he was born in Scotland I was born in Florida you shall see. In the sister city to Sterling Scotland, Dunedin is it's name, oh mercy me. He wrote about his love for people And the loves he had through life. Writing humor and also music, Just as I do most every night. Had I not found faith as a youngster I may have been swayed by others too. To believe in reincarnation, Needing to be set straight like you. I fell a kinship to old Rabbie. Perhaps i’ll be a hit when I leave here. Too bad he only lived to thirty seven. I'm glad at near sixty there is no fear. So play the bag pipes slowly With the Pipes and the Drum Corp. But keep your kilt at half mast, For the Rabbie who came before. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 52 [topic] => 21 [informant] => robert_edgar_burns [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )
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