70's Child

70's child and not a cloud in the sky

she forged her identity as the years rolled by

the security of nestling into her Mother's lap

and occasional discipline for the odd mishap

full of purpose the child knew where she was going

into the big wide world with her ideas flowing

a housewife and a mother she soon became herself

as photos of her mother peered down from the shelf

but Mother clearly wasn't what she used to be

have the leaves started to fall from the tree

has the sun set on her role of motherhood

or are some things just not meant to be understood

Old Father Time set out to bag his quarry

he never shows mercy and never feels sorry

played his cards well as the leaves began to fall

soon all could see Mother could no longer walk tall

 

but the daughter was aware of the fading flower

so to help her she summoned up all of her power

the snow began to fall albeit almost begrudgingly

though only the daughter has power over the enemy

the threat of immortality had lowered its guard

some things in life are easy, other things are hard

Daughter gets knocked down but she's not down for long

she rises up every time to prove old Father Time wrong

Mother had all the time to stop and smell the roses

always a pure motive, she was meeker than Moses

although she looked hagard and at times quite pale

her faith and integrity were never up for sale

from her withered world the ship would still go sailing

but Father Time could see that her faculties were failing

from the labrynth of her mind it went in sharp pursuit

if the roadways were blocked then you just had to re-route

Daughter played her cards slowly, one by one

Father Time won the victory but not the final song

although the sea mist is slowly closing in

from the words of her faith you could see where she's been

isn't it strange how the Daughter can become the Mother

Mother now the child with obedience to no other

now all the leaves have fallen and the wind brought in the rain

but soon Mother will stand tall on the hills of summer again.

Hope

I can only ever see you in my dreams

belaying down towards the calming streams

yet whenever I'm sure that you're near

like the transient mist you disappear

but just like the moon is linked to the tide

there's an unbreakable bond you cannot hide

so it seems you will keep coming back

the treasured jewell in memories pack

can the blossom tell the bee not to dance

will serendipity give us a second chance

as long as one runs the alloted life span

'hope lies eternal in the heart of man'

Atmosphere - Loch Eriboll

The eyes of the Raven pierced through the gloaming

beheld a flickering silhouette without a spine

a once happy tune becomes a mournful refrain

the mist moves in fear of some unforgotten crime

the silhouette was oblivious of the Raven

from his gothic cathedral spire he stares down below

a shrill of laughter pounced out of the silence

an air of foreboding where angels fear to go

freakish nightmares protrude from the contorted coastline

as the silhouette gradually transforms into a man

other shapes come and go in a slanted strangeness

the Raven spreads his wings as the thunderstorm began.

Driving around Loch Eriboll in winter was a dramatic experience. I tried to put it into words...... well, I tried.

Tying the knot

A marriage, the ultimate triumph of love

the kind provision that came down from above

that's the bond that will sustain you through the storm

a secure embrace that will keep your heart warm

endeavoured to have peace before the sun set

and always made sure each others needs were met

never regreted the day you said 'I do'

though seas were sometimes choppy the sky was always blue

talked things through together and worked as a team

drank different tea but always had coffee with cream

until the past years gathered together like old friends

and your mortal journey eventually ends.

Lacrimosa

A lone piper played under a fledgling star

to a circling  eagle and the odd passing car

unbeknown to him a lady had one last wish

to enamel Scotland on to her decorative dish

heading up to the Highlands for the very first time

the ultimate reward at the end of her climb

never breathed in that Highland air before

but will she be able to breathe it in anymore?

the hallowed wind layed still that April morning

on the Kyle of Durness the dawn was still yawning

astride Golden Hair's banks, the piper played there

Amazing Grace hung in the lugubrious air

sounds of sorrow slowly permeated the mist

to relate her story she was unable to resist

bright colours quaked and blossomed like flowers

as she praised the piper, oblivious of the showers

then the barrier that held back the tears had gone

as aspens and birch trees bowed there heads as one

Ambrosia's long hair meandered on the kyle

as the tide departed for just a little while

but in a new morning, for sure, the tide will return

the Piper will play and all our hearts will burn

and dance to reels of joy in a world free from pain

and embrace the lady that walked in the rain.

My customer, Keith's wife died of cancer. Her one last wish was that she could visit the Highlands. Keith honoured that. Although he is one of my favourite customers, I didn't think 'Keith'  is a poetical name - sorry Kiddo :-)

The Gaelic Queen

"I'm the Gaelic Queen but I'll never wear a crown

and in my presence you must never bow down

I'm here to serve you and help you understand

in difficult times I'll always hold your hand

how sweet is the chatter of old Gaelic Bards

like clattering hooves on stone cobbled yards

I believe our time together will never be lost

because the winter always surrenders its frost"

just then Wisdom spoke through the pages of a book

"there's a promise etched in stone if you care to have a look

you'll get the power to make you firm and strong

fear not Gaelic Queen for it wont be too long

in that time the lion within you will roar

way above the Cuillin hills your mantle will soar

like curduroy ripples in a serenity of blue

the language of the land will emanate from you"

for SC

Weeping Widow

How can you call yourself the emblem of peace?

amidst all that thrashing and endless crashing

I've tasted the wine

did you not see the dreamlike rainbow

now there is no turning back

How can you call yourself an emblem of love?

when our tears fell like rain you didn't feel our pain

you tasted the wine

I saw you standing underneath the waterfall

now there is no turning back

And your an emblem of wild artistry?

you basked in the storms demise yet there's lustre in your eyes

you drank the wine

didn't you know time is one directional?

Maybe I can weep for you all

because there is no turning back.

                                                The Weeping Widow waterfall

Weeping Widow waterfall from above - falling off the edge of the world.

The language of the heart

If those embers were fanned would they turn into flames

there are people who love Gàidhlig I even know their names

they're a united band on a far distant shore

and long for the time when the tongue is spoken once more

when the weather was'nt your friend through all those tiresome years

by your unyielding lazy beds you spoke through your tears

laughter was the same in whatever dialect you spoke

a struggling existence but always time for a joke

but harrowed by politicians who couldn't care less

weather the Gaelic lived or died was anyones guess

just for convenience, speaking English made sense

to the culture and folklore of the heartland's expense

then somehow the blurr of life just passed everyone by

but the language of the heart was resolved not to die

in spite of mechanisation going forward at any cost

it looked like the tongues of the ancients could be lost

then it was if the Great Artist put his hand on my shoulder

"the time is near my friend when you wont grow any older

a new world free of hate where love will be no mere token

where the language of the heart shall forever be spoken".

Ode to Porridge

What else warms you through on a really cold start?

What else can heat the body but also the heart?

Corn Flakes? Rice Crispies? I just couldn't hack it

there's more nutrition in the cardboard of the packet

sugar's the enemy, just give me a sprinkling of salt

and maybe a dash of your favourite malt

but please take me back before the days of school and college

as a child sitting by a pan of simmering porridge.

for Josephine and Sheila.

The colours of life

The sun flecks the hills changing colour by the second

heather clings to the rocks as eternity beckoned

waves gently lap the shore like your favourite song

in a spell of fine weather you just know wont last long

the bleating of lambs and the abscence of neighbours

a shepherd sits down and retires from his labours

but then a squall passed by and loosed its acrid tears

the stains are still visible over the passing of years

the lochs and the mountains keep secrets from each other

like a fracured bond between a daughter and a mother

still the gorse spreads its seeds without any remorse

rivers always reach the sea but some change their course

the colours of life provide a delight for the eyes

the ripples on the water will always mesmorise

soon those nearby hills will cast their long evening shadows

as we contemplate the future of endless tomorrows.

Perfect ( haiku )

Walking is too slow

Driving  you can miss too much 

Cycling is perfect.

The scent of the sea

Come let us run away where we can be free

with the salt in the air and the scent of the sea

go back with mother time as she takes you by the hand

and we'll pick pretty shells where the waves lap the sand

with your arm in mine we'll skip along the beach

all your worries on hold and your cares out of reach

memories will always linger in your mind

though sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind

when you said goodbye it seemed a long time ago

the bare mountain slopes are now covered in snow

so lets go down to the beach and light a good fire

you never know it might rekindle your desire

recollections abound and dance with the flames

amidst happy holidays and childhood games

so come back and run away where we can be free

you will never forget the scent of the sea.

The Gàidhlig  Duo enigma

I was talking to an enchanted badger you know

it was December and I was eating snow

he gave an enchanted apple to me

and told me that a computer is useless in the sea

I also have an enchanted chicken down near the ben

where Mairi is stealing underpants again

so I peeled a turnip and was so full of joy

but there's sheep in my office and that does annoy

my lover is in the shop buying haggis I said

although the word 'idiot' is written on my head

a kettle is a new technology of course

and horse riding is good but you need a horse!

Sunrise over Quinag

A towering ridge of bold magnificence

swathed in crimson and the vermillion of innocence

can you recall a time when you were alone and lost

tried to build the tower but didn't count the cost

listen to the dawn - it's calling your name

paintbrush clouds float on a metallic blue sky

as you lament on all the years that have gone by

a soaring ridge remains in a shadowed veil

sometimes in life you have to adjust your sail

listen to the dawn - it's calling your name

jigsaw lochans fit together in the context of time

you dont deserve the reward but it was a hard climb

behold the embers of sunrise, they soon fade away

then you might realise it's a brand new day

I listened to the dawn - it called my name.

Walking with nature

See the dappled sunlight as it shines through the trees

as your skin is soothed by the soft evening breeze

the leaves on the path make it soft for your feet

away from the world and its venemous heat

creation harmoniously works together

while mankind's world is at the end of its tether

I'm just a guest, I dont want to invade your space

especially when you see what we've done to this place

but when you walk with nature you'll see good things ahead

clear your mind and put your problems to bed

I could be the only one here midst several shades of green

to witness this harmony and many things unseen

I could hear the birds singing but couldn't see them today

but the peace of the woods just made me want to stay

I went to look for butterflies but there was nothing on the shelf

I suppose really, the only thing I found was myself.

A short story - with a moral

I would like to introduce you to Ronald.... Ronald is a Goat.

Ronald doesn't like being told what to do. One day somebody carelessly left the gate open to a lower enclosure, and all the sheep and Ronald wandered up to the cottage where Mark and Deb, a random couple, were enjoying their well earned break in the Motherland. 'So what's the big deal' I hear you say.

Well the above photo shows Ronald continually head butting the patio doors as if he's been nursing a well earned grudge for years. The glass was shaking, I thought - if he decides to kick the patio doors, the glass will be through and we will taste the Highland gales as we've never experienced before.

Enter Marky...

Marky is a big strong powerful man. Immediately he dropped what he was doing and marched outside to promptly sort things out. The sheep quivered in sheer trepidation at the sight of this awesome man, and as one, scarpered back into their enclosure. But...

Ronald stood resolute! A line was drawn in the sand as they both gave each other the deep eyeball penetration treatment. Then Marky realised.... 'this is between me and him'

Marky was last seen running back into the house.

Deb, who was wise, wooed Ronald away with the prospect of a banana. Then when he was back in his enclosure Big Brave Marky secured the property.

Moral - Jesus' illustration of the 'sheep and the goats' ( Matt 25:31-33) is so amazingly appropriate. Sheep are by nature docile and humble, non confrontational and will run away at the first hint of trouble. Goats, on the other hand, would sooner head butt you than take direction or be told what to do.

Humans can be like sheep and humans can be like goats. An utterly brilliant comparison.

Rosey eyed glasses

I once knew a girl who had rosey eyed glasses

they helped her see things differently from the masses

she could only see sunshine and never saw the rain

forgave everybody and would never complain

the sea was always warm and the sky was always blue

and she always believed that her dreams would come true

she saw a world where everyone was happy and free

because she knew that was how it was supposed to be

when the clouds rolled in it would never spoil her view

as she believed in a time when all would be made new

once she removed them and saw the evil unfurled

but I said 'keep them on, it's a much nicer world.

Cheeky Mark 

reprinted by kind permission of  Marty Waltser

He's got a cheeky grin and a glint in his eye

always up for a laugh and never says goodbye

always got a joke to make you laugh out loud

always there for you when you're feeling down

always up to no good and getting into trouble

but does'nt seem fazed in his own little bubble

always got a cheeky little dare

like putting a whoopee cusion under your chair

the prankster, the jester, the biggest fool you'll ever meet

he even put cling film over the toilet seat

but even though he's a prankster he's still a good friend

and he'll always be there for you in the end

so the next time you see Mark 

just laugh it off and stay calm

honestly, he doesn't mean any harm.

( contributed by Martyn Walstar)

The Poets seat

With pathos in their heart they would sit down and write

and pour out their feelings on into the night

whether words of beauty or words of despair

the glory of the Highlands sits here sits here to share

a tapestry of words have helped some people to cope

to put things in persective and strengthen their hope

from the very depths of their being they always impart

and sometimes allude to things close to their heart

poems about butterflies or poems about birds

a rising wave in a sea of living words

lyrics can become sonnets and verses dont have to rhyme

but lines must touch the heart, in lifes pantomime

the window is always open for you to come back again

the irresistable vistas will always remain

it's all sheer loveliness for your eyes to greet

when you come and sit down on 'the poets seat'.

Sunset over Diabaig

Sunset over Diabaig

like a single malt straight from the keg

on the hill we stood and stared

but got the feeling someone cared

a calmness came down from above

and filled our fragile hearts with love

like music was this wondrous gift

and made our tired spirits lift

nature and landscape sit as one

though in no time our days are gone

but as we rise above our pain

we know the sun will rise again.

One love, Marky🦋