Here for sixty, gave me almost two,
Early on, wondering whether to tell you.
The dragon & rat, so it begins
with engine failure & secret grins

Standing next to me, work night out
Handsome eyes beyond a doubt
Burgundy shirt, neat like your drink
Those extra smiles, my cheeks turned pink

5am taxis & missing socks
Half day holiday’s & pillow talks
Milky white skin & a tickly spine
As long as it lasts, I’m glad you’re mine

For independence together we marched
Isle Of Wight whisky in He...brides, parched
In see through capes under the rain
Sweet, deep kisses on the train

Steamy showers when we’re alone
Cute ears & a creaky moan
A ‘thanks for coming’ & poached eggs
Grey leggings & sprinter’s legs

It’s no coincidence that your birthday lies
on Valentine’s Day under pink skies
Your selfless soul inspires me,
To become the best that I can be

Far and awa fae the light making shadows.
Sight to behold in the afternoon snow.
Gallant destruction in wall tumbled ivy.
Tight as the hack of the hobbling crow.

Parson and gardener, nipped on their fingers.
Wrapping up, fenced, for the winter to come.
Cauld is the cloak on the journey to pasture.
Tilling the field and the prayer book hum.

Frost blaws to thaw as the sun yawns, persistent.
Batter the drum as the hail thumps in time.
Speed through the wind as it gnaws faces, twisted.
Slush churns to wet as the welcome bells chime.

Winter yir song, as it puffs into whisper.
Herald the twilight for new days to speak.
Underfoot crack as your hold starts to weaken.
Buttercup sun tips her hat to the bleak.

chattering like youths in undulating flight
that looping the loop was an awesome sight
your peers eat mostly worms and insect fayre
yet you catch Damsels as they fly through the air!
Then returning to patient stones in the loch
to plan your next sortie and feed your young stock
cataracts of grey in yellow cascade
I appoint you Queen of the fashion parade.

“Til the rocks melt with the sun;”
Is that how long love goes on,
Beyond the trappings of time and the outer contours of the mind?

I learned of love within the cadence of Celtic songs.
Daddy played them on an old piano
And mommy sang along.
The walls they rang with something that wasn’t
Really so hard to understand;

The aching of one heart for another,
Always swept apart by the sea
And the way a lifetime
Can make it too far to reach
The other, distant shore.

But the sorrow at the core of Highland songs,
I understand better now;  
Now that every tangible thing from those years
Is gone,
Their voices silenced and a home knocked down,
Lullabies buried in the ground.
The piano sold and gravestones too far away for me to hold,

But love, love is the Moorland in my soul

And it is wide and open
And the purple heather grows
Forever and descends to a churning sea,
And melodies, on the wind, they whip between the rocks and disappear.

And though I can no more grasp voices from the air
Than hold love here,
I will stand on this shore and I will sing these

Forgotten refrains

And though they drift across the sea,
This love has been worth it all the while,
Even if time carries it away,

Like music,

And it never comes back to me,

Ferns for my soul
Echinaceas for my childhood
Is what I told my mother when
She cried looking at my arm
That I had so thoughtfully inked
Botanical permanence.

Not waving, but drying.
Not surrender, but hope.
Not a reckless abandon
to the uncaring elements,
but a careful reading of the gusts,
of the distant clouds,
of any sign of coming gales.

Not waving, but drying
by a canny application
of my mother's oversized,
double applied,
long-legged, wooden pegs.

Not waving, but drying
by lunchtime.

Ivory, sheer curtains
Breathe- sunlit with passing wind.
Delicately brushing eggshell plaster
Before falling to original shape.

I wrap myself in their peace.
Matching breath to theirs,
And it feels like
I am being held by your
Love.

A Procrustean woman's tale
in an orbit does tell that this snitch
here wasn't Montgomery whether sound must hitch
with Pythagoras
that seldom erupt in despair
now dire hands with guilty chest
yet volcanoes bleed in the air

Part One - Missing presumed dead

Apparently Alec was missing presumed dead
at least that was what the obituary said
how then he got married is still a mystery
life after a very dark period of history

               Jane plodded head down through another long day
               solitude complete in a strange kind of way
               while Kestrels are tacked to an untamed sky
               she screams "Dear Lord wont you please tell me why"

young Alec stood well over six foot tall
legs full of shrapnell disfigured and all
willing to give all for a meagre days pay
a young man with half of his face blown away

                Shepherdess Jane sat under sad twinkling stars
                it was plain to see she had her own mental scars
                the Ferryman's Daughter, she was so kind
                different from the others, Jane was blind

when the bells of victory began to ring forth
it was too much for Alec, he headed up North
up to the North where the bronze fields shone
but Alec's old personality had gone

                 there in the North a young Shepherdess called Jane
                 did dry Alec's tears and soothed his deep pain
                 Her voice rolled over hills in a plaintive wave
                 as they assumed Alec lied in an unmarked grave

In time they married, Jane bore Alec a Son
but talk about the war, Alec would have none
all that he said was "between you and me..
I've seen things that no man should ever see"

                 flashbacks in his mind of the dead still ringing
                 offset by his young Wife's ethereal singing
                 somewhere around the Somme young Alec lay dead
                 at least that was what the obituary said.


Part Two - The Ferryman

The Ferryman vowed he would find his girl
he picked some roses to place in the top room
searched high and low to find his precious lost pearl
swore he would have her back before the flowers bloom

treated like a slave, a young girl in her prime
the Brothers got away Jane was left behind
her body it did whither through the passing of time
She was different from the others, Jane was blind

worked as a Milkmaid her hands would get so sore
under constant threats she still searched for the spark
work never done a family waits on the shore
although Jane was blind she could see in the dark

the moon shone bright on the path to the Ferry House
the gusts picked up on the night Jane ran away
salty wind and sea shanty's awakened the grouse
as Jane finally gets her break from the play

He scoured every square inch of the land
yet couldn't ask why? Or search into his past
at the Wayfarers Inn they'd got it all planned
released from a cruelty that could no longer last

the night the Father died Gaelic psalms they sang
a lonely house still stands like a watch to nature's will
when they buried the Ferryman the church bells rang
the flowers in the attic, they stand there still.


Part three - The Inn (recapitulation)

The Ferrymans lantern swung in the pouring rain
he heard that his Daughter had made it to the Inn
the audience sang to the Drovers refrain
midst discarded cigarettes, rolling dice and gin

Jane had long picked brambles from thorn covered vines
lived an intoned existence yet she had her plans
though Jane was blind she could read between the lines
a chance to escape, she grabbed it with both hands

the Inn's cosy light shone at the end of the lane
to Whiskey Jack, Jane's elopement had come to light
she had nothing to lose and everything to gain
Jane's now with Alec and has recieved her respite

see him dramming away yarns, bereft of what's true
then screaming his lies to the starry sky above
but tidal subtleties are demanding their due
his heart had long died to the trueness of love

the landlord played the piano and felt every note
the Ferryman's lantern swung in the pouring rain
given up his search, now in want of his boat
regular at the Inn but never seen again

he knew that yesterday would never come back
sailing aimlessly like a throw of the dice
he knew there would be no-one to take up the slack
the doomed Mariner paid the ultimate price.