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Saturday, 20 September 2014

Port

Island waters: seas, lochs
Streams, waterfalls
The poet’s father’s daughter
Plays the pipes and all

All to have a calling from
The birth date to the wake
Words that stall, fall short
Of deep within rhythms

Of the oceans & of
Those seven deadly sins
Sunlight on the ferry
As for the boys in France

Back to making merry
Lead the nearly men a dance
Tall ships and seaborne warriors
Divers for the crab and the clam

Hear the anthems of the Highlands
Fire the fear and then be damned
Dream of wide open moorland
Sleep on thoughts of mountain tan

Lay down old preoccupations
As you would in far away Japan
With the author and the hari-kari
Turn the pages on the love that ran