Queen of the Clearence

She owned a million acres
I did not own a single one
She owned a million acres
Yet it is her lands beauty
That my eyes now ache upon

She was a lady of the lowlands
With edicts oft emerging from
She was a lady of the lowlands
Though it is her natures beauty
That has me now rising strong

The mourn of loch and lay line
Helps us to carry on
The scorn of loss and lost time
Gives the faith to live it long
Shares the faith to live it long

Live it long by stones and steeples
Live it long by folk and lore
Live it long in every moment
Live it long
Through the length
Of all your rousing songs

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Calanais

You sit at your desk
We stand beside the stone
The gale tears away all doubt
No need for sages

We are among true believers
Barefoot warriors
Freed from their desks
Free to bless the stone

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Seedlings in Flight

The water and the wind
The water and the wind
The water and the wind
The water the wind
& the grasses blown on home to you

The grasses blown
Blown on
To thoughts of home
On the water and the wind
The thoughts blown on home to you

Here among your highland grounds
Here among your standing stones
Here among your land of endless lochs & pantries
Here among the water and the wind
Here among the thoughts that I blow on home to you

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Rain & Sun & Rain & Sun & Rain...

Blue sky to the heavens
Grey mist to the sea
Black, white crested waves

Rothko through and through
With some imaginary spirit
Sat unseen, set behind it all

Today we have the rain
Yet hardly a hint of breeze
And a silver grey
Seemingly cloudless sky

But it is true
We do have the rain
Free falling to splash on tin & tile
Calling us to stay indoors

Snuggle up, with a book
Listen to our favourite music
Watch the seals play
Make best of having a telescope
Feel the cool air on bare bodies
In preparation for a warm shower

While he seeks out light
The light that we only see
On the painters canvas
Or in the photographers print

I seek out the sound
That we all might hear
Of raindrops on corrugated roofs
And aeroplanes taking to the sky

In this way sight and sound are given back to us
The trickle of stream
The break in cloud
Our earthly atmospherics reflected

Grain of sand
Lap of wave
Pop of bladderwrack
Under the soles of feet

Watch the brackish water
Taint the sea with it's purples and browns
Pause, on a hill, under the cover of a fir tree
A half-covered shelter from the diagonal rain

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The energy of lost love

Back into the warmth
Or did the warmth come from the book
Early on, an easy understanding
Of the many levels of consciousness
Given to me through Jung's interpretation
Of his early 30's dream

My arm is warm
The thin pullover clings ever so lightly
These are the paths my mind now wanders along
The slightest of touches, the merest of movements
Invoking memories of a gentle love
A love even more gently imagined

A memory so easily painted
With soft lights and warm colours
A time past that lives fleetingly as a time present
An energy that reminds me
That the warmth did not come from the book
The warmth came from within me

A within that has loved and lost and loved again
A warmth that reminds me that the loss of love
Is not love lost, but a love that floats
A love that waits to be rediscovered
Whenever the warmth calls by

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