The winds sighs in the needled boughs
The heather bends in the breeze
Yellowed grass of winter
on the dry moorland
The similarity is there
But so is the dissimilarity
No bogs or hags
to trap the unwary
Well paved trails
traverse the moors
the traffic roars
on a distant highway
Out on the moors
wherever they be
my mind wanders free
The freedom of the open sky
A dome of blue
clouds scudding along
the solstice sun
setting in a bed of gold
The unminding traffic
continual in its onward journeys
taking the place of the sea
which has not stopped ever
Not all that were here once
are still around now
their memories remain
in the woods and the moors
Much like in the islands where
they remember those gone on ahead
out at sea or through wizened old age
alive in our memories though
The German Ocean
The road beckoned
And the roar of the sea
in the distance
beyond the dunes
I was tempted
to walk to the sea
not much further
from where the foxes play
But it's the German Ocean
cold and grey
far away
from the Atlantic shores
The isle of green and white
is washed by it
always luring beyond
the sandy dunes
For those in the northwest
It's only cold
where Davy Jones
holds many in his locker
Fallen to the enemy
when it stalked the
gun metalship grey
seas of the German Ocean
Long have those years
passed - the enemy
now our friend and neighbour
both having learned from old mistakes
The shadow lingers though
where the breakers roar
along the sandy shores
of the Low Countries
And the roar of the sea
in the distance
beyond the dunes
I was tempted
to walk to the sea
not much further
from where the foxes play
But it's the German Ocean
cold and grey
far away
from the Atlantic shores
The isle of green and white
is washed by it
always luring beyond
the sandy dunes
For those in the northwest
It's only cold
where Davy Jones
holds many in his locker
Fallen to the enemy
when it stalked the
gun metalship grey
seas of the German Ocean
Long have those years
passed - the enemy
now our friend and neighbour
both having learned from old mistakes
The shadow lingers though
where the breakers roar
along the sandy shores
of the Low Countries
Christmas bells
A warm southerly breeze
brought the joyful sound
of pealing bells
summoning to worship
those that would not normally come
Some bells were silenced
their halls now empty,
put to other use,
Others newly cast
sending out their call across the land
Another Christmas has arrived
will it make any difference at all?
Some only recently began to observe
others don't think it's that big a deal
did he die then for our sins today?
The bell in the forest
matches the bell near the distant sea
A watchnight service they call it there
but the purpose is the same
Rejoice! Christ was born today.
brought the joyful sound
of pealing bells
summoning to worship
those that would not normally come
Some bells were silenced
their halls now empty,
put to other use,
Others newly cast
sending out their call across the land
Another Christmas has arrived
will it make any difference at all?
Some only recently began to observe
others don't think it's that big a deal
did he die then for our sins today?
The bell in the forest
matches the bell near the distant sea
A watchnight service they call it there
but the purpose is the same
Rejoice! Christ was born today.
The forest
An avenue of trees
reaching high into the skies
marching on for many a step
immutable it seems
Their crowns are rustled
by the wind
Their bows sway and creak
As if talking amongst themselves
A uniform carpet underfoot
of rustled brown leaves
A memory
of sunny summer days
I cannot see
beyond their eaves
the wind is that of land
blowing ever further away
Here the sea is to my west
well beyond my line of sight
even the belvedere on top of hill
only shows rivers from afar
reaching high into the skies
marching on for many a step
immutable it seems
Their crowns are rustled
by the wind
Their bows sway and creak
As if talking amongst themselves
A uniform carpet underfoot
of rustled brown leaves
A memory
of sunny summer days
I cannot see
beyond their eaves
the wind is that of land
blowing ever further away
Here the sea is to my west
well beyond my line of sight
even the belvedere on top of hill
only shows rivers from afar
Parallel
From the land of rushlined streams
Broad rivers meandering
below an endless horizon
My mind drifts north
Over the forests
where boar and deer
roam freely,
perhaps too much so
Beyond the dammed sea
and the part-time waters
the isle of white and green
is a stepping stone
To the distant northwest
which beckons from afar
in rainclad grey
with water flowing freely
Reflected in the lowering skies
of the low land of woods
the land of heather
like in the northwest
Broad rivers meandering
below an endless horizon
My mind drifts north
Over the forests
where boar and deer
roam freely,
perhaps too much so
Beyond the dammed sea
and the part-time waters
the isle of white and green
is a stepping stone
To the distant northwest
which beckons from afar
in rainclad grey
with water flowing freely
Reflected in the lowering skies
of the low land of woods
the land of heather
like in the northwest
A different Castle Town
Quickly the cloud obscured
the familiar sights of town
as the plane ascended
away from the airport
The fog curls slowly
among the trees
and buildings
of another Castletown
I'll miss the island's
bleak austere beauty,
from a contrasting landscape
far away from the sea
the familiar sights of town
as the plane ascended
away from the airport
The fog curls slowly
among the trees
and buildings
of another Castletown
I'll miss the island's
bleak austere beauty,
from a contrasting landscape
far away from the sea
Coire Geurad
Calmly the waters curve away
overshadowed by tall hills
wavelets lapping at the shores
where peat overhangs the water
Endless pale blue skies
arch over the distant scene
wisps of ephemeral cloud
imperceptably drape the dome of sky
The river babbles over rocks
as it flows its short course
down from one loch
into another
Barely cresting the mountain tops
themselves under a veil of snow
the sun tracks its solstice course
to disappear within seven hours
Lumps of rocks on Coltreasal
seemingly in a haphazard heap
speak of lives long since gone
forgotten summers, a distant echo
They were happy there, long moons ago
Preparing for hard winters
In the bounty of summer
on the shores of Coire Geurad
overshadowed by tall hills
wavelets lapping at the shores
where peat overhangs the water
Endless pale blue skies
arch over the distant scene
wisps of ephemeral cloud
imperceptably drape the dome of sky
The river babbles over rocks
as it flows its short course
down from one loch
into another
Barely cresting the mountain tops
themselves under a veil of snow
the sun tracks its solstice course
to disappear within seven hours
Lumps of rocks on Coltreasal
seemingly in a haphazard heap
speak of lives long since gone
forgotten summers, a distant echo
They were happy there, long moons ago
Preparing for hard winters
In the bounty of summer
on the shores of Coire Geurad
Winterstorm
Thundering along seemingly without end
the wind roars a steady beat
shaking roofs and houses
blowing squalls at rapid intervals
Day breaks in gunship metal grey
clouds scud along
from southwest to northeast
until a crescendo drowns the scene
Wind never ceasing
as the sheep know to huddle
and folk stay behind doors
lights on all day, both inside and out
Darkness has fallen
was it ever daylight?
hail clatters on windows
their patter lulls to sleep
Awake in the small hours
what's wrong - can't sleep
After a moment it becomes clear
The wind is gone, the squalls have ceased
Day breaks in colours
Not a breath of wind
A blue dome of sky
Unbroken by cloud
the wind roars a steady beat
shaking roofs and houses
blowing squalls at rapid intervals
Day breaks in gunship metal grey
clouds scud along
from southwest to northeast
until a crescendo drowns the scene
Wind never ceasing
as the sheep know to huddle
and folk stay behind doors
lights on all day, both inside and out
Darkness has fallen
was it ever daylight?
hail clatters on windows
their patter lulls to sleep
Awake in the small hours
what's wrong - can't sleep
After a moment it becomes clear
The wind is gone, the squalls have ceased
Day breaks in colours
Not a breath of wind
A blue dome of sky
Unbroken by cloud
Red martyrdom
The warrior prince
with Divine imperative
sailed north in a hurry
out of sight of home
His acolytes joined him
and proceeded further
once he had settled
at the island of I
The Isle of the Notch
found a monastery
on its eastern shore
not to the liking of its ruler
The abbot was warned
upon leaving his master
Martyrdom awaits you
Its colour is red
The queen of the island
her wrath had no bounds
sent her corsairs
to finish the monks
Found at prayer
they requested a respite
until their submissions
had ended
Soon after
their lives had been ended
put to the sword
the queen was triumphant
Sailed over from Moidart
she came up to gloat
Intrigued by that glow
over the new-dug graves of the monks
She followed the light
unaware of its movement
up into the hills
and into the water
Loch nam Ban Mora
now holds her mortal remains
For fulfilling Columba's prediction
of Donnan's red martyrdom
with Divine imperative
sailed north in a hurry
out of sight of home
His acolytes joined him
and proceeded further
once he had settled
at the island of I
The Isle of the Notch
found a monastery
on its eastern shore
not to the liking of its ruler
The abbot was warned
upon leaving his master
Martyrdom awaits you
Its colour is red
The queen of the island
her wrath had no bounds
sent her corsairs
to finish the monks
Found at prayer
they requested a respite
until their submissions
had ended
Soon after
their lives had been ended
put to the sword
the queen was triumphant
Sailed over from Moidart
she came up to gloat
Intrigued by that glow
over the new-dug graves of the monks
She followed the light
unaware of its movement
up into the hills
and into the water
Loch nam Ban Mora
now holds her mortal remains
For fulfilling Columba's prediction
of Donnan's red martyrdom
Only the rowan remains
Only the rowan remains
beside the ruined walls
the gable end
the broken roof
Only the rowan remains
where empty windows
look out towards
the setting sun
Only the rowan remains
where happiness once ruled
stepping through the door
which has long since disappeared
Only the rowan remains
remembering the joys of new life
excited children's voices
swinging from its branches
Only the rowan remains
when sadness came to call
seeing them off on distant journeys
or on that final journey of them all
Only the rowan remains
beside many a ruined homestead
the holder of its memories
the keeper of its charms
Only the rowan remains
under sun, rain or wind
forever looking up the road
forlornly awaiting their return
Only the rowan remains
the watcher of many places
but not knowing
that they will never return
To that place by loch. hill or moor
From whence they set forth once
to other places near and far
for only the rowan to remain
beside the ruined walls
the gable end
the broken roof
Only the rowan remains
where empty windows
look out towards
the setting sun
Only the rowan remains
where happiness once ruled
stepping through the door
which has long since disappeared
Only the rowan remains
remembering the joys of new life
excited children's voices
swinging from its branches
Only the rowan remains
when sadness came to call
seeing them off on distant journeys
or on that final journey of them all
Only the rowan remains
beside many a ruined homestead
the holder of its memories
the keeper of its charms
Only the rowan remains
under sun, rain or wind
forever looking up the road
forlornly awaiting their return
Only the rowan remains
the watcher of many places
but not knowing
that they will never return
To that place by loch. hill or moor
From whence they set forth once
to other places near and far
for only the rowan to remain
Storm
A thunderous roar
in the chimney
blows ash and soot down
nearly smothering the fire below
White spray flies
horizontally over the seawall
as waves furiously crash
against sea defences
Angry white riders
charge mightily in from afar
their cohors forbiddingly
assail the fortress of cliffs
Passage on foot
is well-nigh impossible
the harbour is full of
the sea empty of boats
For now we are once more
an island
the ferry tied up
and the shops empty
in the chimney
blows ash and soot down
nearly smothering the fire below
White spray flies
horizontally over the seawall
as waves furiously crash
against sea defences
Angry white riders
charge mightily in from afar
their cohors forbiddingly
assail the fortress of cliffs
Passage on foot
is well-nigh impossible
the harbour is full of
the sea empty of boats
For now we are once more
an island
the ferry tied up
and the shops empty
Looking north
Don't think I don't think back
when I was looking out over water
but facing north
rather than south
The long water west
ending below far-off Roineabhal
The townships across the loch
near, but still so far
Walking the roads at dusk
the distant mountains in white
freezing cold air blown in
as lit up from the east
Limpid depthless mirrors
named in a to me yet foreign tongue
scattered amidst countless hillocks
interspersed by peaty streams
At the end of the road
stands a small memorial tower
remembering a struggle for land
which remains unforthcoming
But little stirs amidst the moors
Only remain those that went on ahead
Their final resting place by the sea
which was, or took, their life
Don't think I have forgotten
the lure of those winter moors
under the pale light
of the short solstice day
when I was looking out over water
but facing north
rather than south
The long water west
ending below far-off Roineabhal
The townships across the loch
near, but still so far
Walking the roads at dusk
the distant mountains in white
freezing cold air blown in
as lit up from the east
Limpid depthless mirrors
named in a to me yet foreign tongue
scattered amidst countless hillocks
interspersed by peaty streams
At the end of the road
stands a small memorial tower
remembering a struggle for land
which remains unforthcoming
But little stirs amidst the moors
Only remain those that went on ahead
Their final resting place by the sea
which was, or took, their life
Don't think I have forgotten
the lure of those winter moors
under the pale light
of the short solstice day
Hunted
Running
through
the long grass
under stones
Wind blows
ruffles
white fur
running
Eating
nibbling
yellowed grass
Yellow
Far seeing
short dash
between stones
Black talons
hanging down
Wind whispers
of danger
from above
Running fast
eating mosses
dashes under rocks
Wind howls
through the gaps
between stones
of refuge
Can't stop
must run
there's green grass
by those rocks
Wind rises
to a galeforce
crescendo
bearing the black wings
Eating the grass
nibbling --------
The force 9 gale
easily lifted the
golden eagle from
the summit of Rapaire
Hanging from its talons
the bloodied lifeless form
of a white
mountain hare
through
the long grass
under stones
Wind blows
ruffles
white fur
running
Eating
nibbling
yellowed grass
Yellow
Far seeing
short dash
between stones
Black talons
hanging down
Wind whispers
of danger
from above
Running fast
eating mosses
dashes under rocks
Wind howls
through the gaps
between stones
of refuge
Can't stop
must run
there's green grass
by those rocks
Wind rises
to a galeforce
crescendo
bearing the black wings
Eating the grass
nibbling --------
The force 9 gale
easily lifted the
golden eagle from
the summit of Rapaire
Hanging from its talons
the bloodied lifeless form
of a white
mountain hare
Encounter
I found you on the mountain path
below the frowning crags
looking out over
the long water
The way was steep
to me
but of no consequence
to you
A shadow flew down
from behind
the steep cliff
but kept well away
Its talons destined
not to take you
I glanced around
at the mountains
Something you were
not aware of
Staying hidden
from the dreaded eyes
Swooping down
unseen
unwarned of
to the next hour
I touched you
but you did not move
perhaps you sensed
I kept harm at bay
Not long after
I glanced up
as I continued
my long way down
Rapaire
Stulabhal
crowned over
where you hid
A mouse
below the frowning crags
looking out over
the long water
The way was steep
to me
but of no consequence
to you
A shadow flew down
from behind
the steep cliff
but kept well away
Its talons destined
not to take you
I glanced around
at the mountains
Something you were
not aware of
Staying hidden
from the dreaded eyes
Swooping down
unseen
unwarned of
to the next hour
I touched you
but you did not move
perhaps you sensed
I kept harm at bay
Not long after
I glanced up
as I continued
my long way down
Rapaire
Stulabhal
crowned over
where you hid
A mouse
Grimersta
The water twinkled
as the sun beamed down
the river flowed fast
as the walked south
The bothy stood
beyond the stones
a few steps in water
and we'd be there
We passed on south
as the blue sky
reflected in
a thousand shifting mirrors
A whirlwind blew
a circle in
the swirling waters
thence hissing in the grass
Hand in hand we headed
along the fields of heather
towards the pyramid
of Roineabhal
At Eilean Mhor I called
but you did not respond
the sun growing hazy
beyond the nearby hills
I could not wait
to cross the deep waters
you had gone
disappeared - were you ever there?
The gloomy waters
rapidly flowed
as I gained the far side
below frowning Roineabhal
As I climbed the hill
nothing stirred
on the shores of Eilean Mhor
Did I abandon you?
Did you abandon me
For the youth of Coire Geurad
to chase the hares
far south on the slopes of Rapaire?
as the sun beamed down
the river flowed fast
as the walked south
The bothy stood
beyond the stones
a few steps in water
and we'd be there
We passed on south
as the blue sky
reflected in
a thousand shifting mirrors
A whirlwind blew
a circle in
the swirling waters
thence hissing in the grass
Hand in hand we headed
along the fields of heather
towards the pyramid
of Roineabhal
At Eilean Mhor I called
but you did not respond
the sun growing hazy
beyond the nearby hills
I could not wait
to cross the deep waters
you had gone
disappeared - were you ever there?
The gloomy waters
rapidly flowed
as I gained the far side
below frowning Roineabhal
As I climbed the hill
nothing stirred
on the shores of Eilean Mhor
Did I abandon you?
Did you abandon me
For the youth of Coire Geurad
to chase the hares
far south on the slopes of Rapaire?
Traigh Mhor
Miles of long strand
stretch under the
lowly, green-clad dunes
south from the river
A jagged line of teeth
denote the mountains
on the distant mainland
beyond the cold water
Higher the dunes rise
steeply from the sand
Houses now appear
beyond their yellow crests
Looking north
from their final place of rest
the markers of the dead
espy the cape of turning
Men of the sea
at rest near the shore
not just here
elsewhere too
The strand closes
where lives lie closed
the only way is up
not just for the living
stretch under the
lowly, green-clad dunes
south from the river
A jagged line of teeth
denote the mountains
on the distant mainland
beyond the cold water
Higher the dunes rise
steeply from the sand
Houses now appear
beyond their yellow crests
Looking north
from their final place of rest
the markers of the dead
espy the cape of turning
Men of the sea
at rest near the shore
not just here
elsewhere too
The strand closes
where lives lie closed
the only way is up
not just for the living
December dusk
Short hours of daylight
already coming
to a close under
pink-hued skies
The barren branches
stand out against
the pale dome of
the coming night
What warmth is left
goes with the sun
a crisp layer of white
a sheen of ice on water
Fading into the
darkness from th eeast
replaced by twinkling
light of distant stars
Quietly the ship glides
across the waters
heaving slowly
off a far-off swell
Its lights drift
into the safety of port
as we close out the night
until the coming of dawn
already coming
to a close under
pink-hued skies
The barren branches
stand out against
the pale dome of
the coming night
What warmth is left
goes with the sun
a crisp layer of white
a sheen of ice on water
Fading into the
darkness from th eeast
replaced by twinkling
light of distant stars
Quietly the ship glides
across the waters
heaving slowly
off a far-off swell
Its lights drift
into the safety of port
as we close out the night
until the coming of dawn
Taransay
The pale light
of the northern sun
shimmers on the
blinding white sand
Abandoned
within sight
not within sound
the dark brown shape
Tumble-down walls
snake over its moors
Gable ends
stand out against the sky
Like a dog
left outside the door
the island
lies just off the mainland
Whose lofty peaks
jagged along
the northern skyline
a barrier too
For one years was there
continuous habitation
Create a community
they said
But St Taran's isle soon
lay alone again
off the bright sands
of West Harris
of the northern sun
shimmers on the
blinding white sand
Abandoned
within sight
not within sound
the dark brown shape
Tumble-down walls
snake over its moors
Gable ends
stand out against the sky
Like a dog
left outside the door
the island
lies just off the mainland
Whose lofty peaks
jagged along
the northern skyline
a barrier too
For one years was there
continuous habitation
Create a community
they said
But St Taran's isle soon
lay alone again
off the bright sands
of West Harris
Langadale
The path of leisure
slowly rises
from the bovine village
at the side of the sea
Mountains loom closer
Stulabhal's hump
blocking the western sky
before the valley is reached
Lonely Langadale
overshadowed by
dark looming peaks
light only from the north
The only way out is up
And Stulabhal's cliffs
frown whichever
way you go
Teileasbhal I once stood upon
I crossed from Bunabhainneadar
I crossed to Bhoisimid
and from Langabhat
But I shall always return
from whichever direction
to stand by the river
in Langadale
slowly rises
from the bovine village
at the side of the sea
Mountains loom closer
Stulabhal's hump
blocking the western sky
before the valley is reached
Lonely Langadale
overshadowed by
dark looming peaks
light only from the north
The only way out is up
And Stulabhal's cliffs
frown whichever
way you go
Teileasbhal I once stood upon
I crossed from Bunabhainneadar
I crossed to Bhoisimid
and from Langabhat
But I shall always return
from whichever direction
to stand by the river
in Langadale
Be mine
Be mine
I said to you
in the warmth
of the summer sun
The lambs cavorted
around their patient mums
as the machair stunned
in a myriad of colours
Be mine
I said to you
as the gale raged
through the autumn rain
Clouds racing east
Thundering surf
pounding the coast
of the west
Be mine
I said to you
as the snow crisped
under our feet
Only two colours
above the blanket of snow
Dark branches of trees
awaiting the return of the sun
Be mine
I said to you
as days equalled nights
and the chill was chased north
But the promise was broken
And as Orion left the night sky
with Scorpio taking his place
You left me, and so did the light
I said to you
in the warmth
of the summer sun
The lambs cavorted
around their patient mums
as the machair stunned
in a myriad of colours
Be mine
I said to you
as the gale raged
through the autumn rain
Clouds racing east
Thundering surf
pounding the coast
of the west
Be mine
I said to you
as the snow crisped
under our feet
Only two colours
above the blanket of snow
Dark branches of trees
awaiting the return of the sun
Be mine
I said to you
as days equalled nights
and the chill was chased north
But the promise was broken
And as Orion left the night sky
with Scorpio taking his place
You left me, and so did the light
Iolaire, 4 December 2012
A heap of stones
by a stone spike
looking down
on a limpid sea
Like distant boats
the islands sail
along the horizon
far to the south
The sun twinkles
in countless mirrors
as it slowly sinks
to its solstice bed
The waters flow
slowly to reveal
a rock or two
under the other spike
Not unlike
a stony leviathan
lurking in the
seas down below
The wind rises
in a bullying crescendo
wintry squalls
obscuring the lights
Which is which?
Rona, Milaid
Arnish, Tiumpan
The time: 1.55 am
by a stone spike
looking down
on a limpid sea
Like distant boats
the islands sail
along the horizon
far to the south
The sun twinkles
in countless mirrors
as it slowly sinks
to its solstice bed
The waters flow
slowly to reveal
a rock or two
under the other spike
Not unlike
a stony leviathan
lurking in the
seas down below
The wind rises
in a bullying crescendo
wintry squalls
obscuring the lights
Which is which?
Rona, Milaid
Arnish, Tiumpan
The time: 1.55 am
Iolaire, December 2012
Cold
water
waves
wind
Sea
rock
ship
wreck
Shore
swell
down
death
Dawn
calm
light
survived
http://www.adb422006.com/iolaire.html
water
waves
wind
Sea
rock
ship
wreck
Shore
swell
down
death
Dawn
calm
light
survived
http://www.adb422006.com/iolaire.html
Langabhat
A lone trail
angles up by the stream
steeply
up into the mountains
Leading nowhere
ending nowhere
except by the shore
of the lonely loch
It carries those
who come for sport
to carry back meat
what once was a stag
It carries others
who fish upon the loch
overshadowed
by the montains
The long water
born of streams
sourced high in the hills
stretching to near Ròineabhal
Finally to cascade
down to the sea
near the old circle
of standing stones
But Langabhat
At the heart of the island
crowned by the mighty Harris hills
continues to hold me captive
angles up by the stream
steeply
up into the mountains
Leading nowhere
ending nowhere
except by the shore
of the lonely loch
It carries those
who come for sport
to carry back meat
what once was a stag
It carries others
who fish upon the loch
overshadowed
by the montains
The long water
born of streams
sourced high in the hills
stretching to near Ròineabhal
Finally to cascade
down to the sea
near the old circle
of standing stones
But Langabhat
At the heart of the island
crowned by the mighty Harris hills
continues to hold me captive
Footsteps in the snow
A thin layer of snow
greets the first light
of the winter morning
dawning late in pink hues
A line of footsteps lead
from the blackhouse
down the slope
and to the water
A swirl of smoke
writes in the pale
northern sky
telling a story
For no footsteps
have yet returned
for several days
the sea has been empty
A stack of peat
dwindling over months
more carried to the fire
as it softly crackles its tale
Over the hilltop
the smoke drifts
looking down the sealoch
where no movement is seen
Only some driftwood
out by the headland
nothing on the slow swell
is that a sail in the water?
None knows what befell
the boat at the headland
except the fire glowing dully
and the smoke
Gently drifting
over the scene of loss
Forming
A wreath
greets the first light
of the winter morning
dawning late in pink hues
A line of footsteps lead
from the blackhouse
down the slope
and to the water
A swirl of smoke
writes in the pale
northern sky
telling a story
For no footsteps
have yet returned
for several days
the sea has been empty
A stack of peat
dwindling over months
more carried to the fire
as it softly crackles its tale
Over the hilltop
the smoke drifts
looking down the sealoch
where no movement is seen
Only some driftwood
out by the headland
nothing on the slow swell
is that a sail in the water?
None knows what befell
the boat at the headland
except the fire glowing dully
and the smoke
Gently drifting
over the scene of loss
Forming
A wreath
Cianalas
The whistle blows
the chorus reaches a crescendo
The steamer slowly backs
away from the quay
Faces quickly lost from sight
on the quay to those aboard
on board to those ashore
The last farewell's been said
As the town disappears from sight
Some will not see it again
A thought at the back
of the mind of all
Even longer ago
Departing hardly voluntarily
Forced by hands of gold
to abandon the land of heather
The certainty was even greater
As were the distances
for deportation
after the clearance
But whether for war
for compulsion
or to seek a better life
The yearning back remains
Dodging the torpedo of the enemy
Espying the shoreline of a distant land
or the smoking stacks of cities
The image remains alive
So when victory is sounded
And the opportunity appears
for the journey back northwest
To once more greet what's home
The old harbour
The empty moorland
The hills rising behind the croft
You're home
the chorus reaches a crescendo
The steamer slowly backs
away from the quay
Faces quickly lost from sight
on the quay to those aboard
on board to those ashore
The last farewell's been said
As the town disappears from sight
Some will not see it again
A thought at the back
of the mind of all
Even longer ago
Departing hardly voluntarily
Forced by hands of gold
to abandon the land of heather
The certainty was even greater
As were the distances
for deportation
after the clearance
But whether for war
for compulsion
or to seek a better life
The yearning back remains
Dodging the torpedo of the enemy
Espying the shoreline of a distant land
or the smoking stacks of cities
The image remains alive
So when victory is sounded
And the opportunity appears
for the journey back northwest
To once more greet what's home
The old harbour
The empty moorland
The hills rising behind the croft
You're home
Time
Slowly the clocktower
chimes out the hours
But hours do not count
when you go with the tide
What's hidden at high water
lies exposed 6 hours later
Irrespective of the hands
on a timepiece
Where barrels once stacked
and fish were packed up
Cars are now left
by those crossing the sea
Only a statue reminds
of the hard hard workers
As the water rises below
and falls twice a day
A curtain of rain
hides the lighthouse from view
As much as the future
is obscure to us all
chimes out the hours
But hours do not count
when you go with the tide
What's hidden at high water
lies exposed 6 hours later
Irrespective of the hands
on a timepiece
Where barrels once stacked
and fish were packed up
Cars are now left
by those crossing the sea
Only a statue reminds
of the hard hard workers
As the water rises below
and falls twice a day
A curtain of rain
hides the lighthouse from view
As much as the future
is obscure to us all
Saturday morning
Stripes painted on the ceiling of the skye
Stripes made of grass
now withered
for winter
A steady breeze from the east
paints lines on the water
making for the west
an anomalous run
The last leaves
heroically clinging
to the bushes
lining the road
We have the best weather
with a reputation for the worst
Quite good for late November
Winter, though, is nigh
Stripes made of grass
now withered
for winter
A steady breeze from the east
paints lines on the water
making for the west
an anomalous run
The last leaves
heroically clinging
to the bushes
lining the road
We have the best weather
with a reputation for the worst
Quite good for late November
Winter, though, is nigh
Cold
The deepening cold
stretches its thin fingers
south from the land of fire
past the islands of sheep
Breathing its chill winds
over the ancient rocks
of the heathery isle
a snow flake drifts
More of them follow
swirling calmly
in the lights of the
town and beyond
The lighthouse blinks
but its beam now lost
As the wind slowly rises
a blizzard comes in
Dawn breaks
and the sun rises late
showing a blanket of white
stretching far, far south
stretches its thin fingers
south from the land of fire
past the islands of sheep
Breathing its chill winds
over the ancient rocks
of the heathery isle
a snow flake drifts
More of them follow
swirling calmly
in the lights of the
town and beyond
The lighthouse blinks
but its beam now lost
As the wind slowly rises
a blizzard comes in
Dawn breaks
and the sun rises late
showing a blanket of white
stretching far, far south
Maimie
I know it well
that reef
standing proud
at low tide
Sheltering the bay
overlooked by the graveyard
overlooked by the lighthouse
well-marked for mariners
That night, 50 years ago
darkness hid the reef
from the eyes of the
boatman venturing forth
Into the teeth of a rising gale
which drove his craft
aground on the reef
within sight and sound
of those ashore who would
but could not help
The wind rose so high
The waves rose even higher
Rags ablaze signalled SOS
A ceaseless scream
awoke all around
but the boatman
He came ashore
his life left him in the sea
His companions still safe aboard
As tide, wind and waves fell
A beautiful morn
Sea twinkling innocently
But the wreck of the Maimie
Still high up on Sgeir Mhor
that reef
standing proud
at low tide
Sheltering the bay
overlooked by the graveyard
overlooked by the lighthouse
well-marked for mariners
That night, 50 years ago
darkness hid the reef
from the eyes of the
boatman venturing forth
Into the teeth of a rising gale
which drove his craft
aground on the reef
within sight and sound
of those ashore who would
but could not help
The wind rose so high
The waves rose even higher
Rags ablaze signalled SOS
A ceaseless scream
awoke all around
but the boatman
He came ashore
his life left him in the sea
His companions still safe aboard
As tide, wind and waves fell
A beautiful morn
Sea twinkling innocently
But the wreck of the Maimie
Still high up on Sgeir Mhor
Grulin
Happy were the folk
in the village under the cliff
tending their kyne
leading their lives
The girl was following the path
when the lad came out
he spoke sweetly
and she was soon in thralls
Love is blind
so she did not espy
his strange attire
or misshapen feet
He took her to the
distant loch
high in the mountains
behind the cliff
When she was missed
her kinfolk came looking
only to find her body
in the water
Hoofprints led away
from a circle of seaweed
None dared follow
the kelpie and his prey
he spoke sweetly
and she was soon in thralls
Love is blind
so she did not espy
his strange attire
or misshapen feet
He took her to the
distant loch
high in the mountains
behind the cliff
When she was missed
her kinfolk came looking
only to find her body
in the water
Hoofprints led away
from a circle of seaweed
None dared follow
the kelpie and his prey
Grey
Grey
whichever way you look
Yellow
a distant light
Piercing the curtains
that are drawn
over our little town
November gloom
Wind
Blows impatiently
Ruffling the sea
in the direction of its force
Faded
the light of day
Barely started
Streetlights still - or already - on
whichever way you look
Yellow
a distant light
Piercing the curtains
that are drawn
over our little town
November gloom
Wind
Blows impatiently
Ruffling the sea
in the direction of its force
Faded
the light of day
Barely started
Streetlights still - or already - on
Late November dusk
As daylight fades
from the east
Towers of clouds
line the far horizon
A sliver of moon
plays hide and seek
with shreds of
remnant cloud
The sun slowly heads
southwest towards its
colourful bed
set amidst distant cloud
The first gusts of
nighttime winds
shake droplets from
bare branches
Faint streetlights
illuminate and reflect
darkened streets
where few venture forth
from the east
Towers of clouds
line the far horizon
A sliver of moon
plays hide and seek
with shreds of
remnant cloud
The sun slowly heads
southwest towards its
colourful bed
set amidst distant cloud
The first gusts of
nighttime winds
shake droplets from
bare branches
Faint streetlights
illuminate and reflect
darkened streets
where few venture forth
Berneray
Down the long beach
we ran
In the summer
of endless sun
Innocence shone down
in the benign
light of evening
when darkness never came
The islands winked
at us from near
and from further away
cloudcapped to the north
Nothing could change
as the sun smiled
setting in the west
of autumn
The exhileration of
a fierce November gale
bound us together on
that boundless strand
Softly fell the
white snow of winter
as our footsteps
trailed us home
The light faded
that winter
when events far away
came to touch us here
As the crown of clouds
settled over the Clisham
a dark form rolled
in the surf on the beach
One of many to wash up
lost in the war
far out at sea
to the menace from the deep
We found him
No mark or name
His last resting place
by the timeless chapel
't Was also where
the lesson was learned
as our innocence drifted
away on the outgoing tide
we ran
In the summer
of endless sun
Innocence shone down
in the benign
light of evening
when darkness never came
The islands winked
at us from near
and from further away
cloudcapped to the north
Nothing could change
as the sun smiled
setting in the west
of autumn
The exhileration of
a fierce November gale
bound us together on
that boundless strand
Softly fell the
white snow of winter
as our footsteps
trailed us home
The light faded
that winter
when events far away
came to touch us here
As the crown of clouds
settled over the Clisham
a dark form rolled
in the surf on the beach
One of many to wash up
lost in the war
far out at sea
to the menace from the deep
We found him
No mark or name
His last resting place
by the timeless chapel
't Was also where
the lesson was learned
as our innocence drifted
away on the outgoing tide
Barvas
A line of four hills
on the southern horizon
The endless sea
stretching out north
The old land falls
from the cliff edge
to its ruins
the sea toys with the stack below
A single line of houses
along the edge of the loch
another line marching
on the opposing skyline
The moorland waters drain off
to rest for a while
in the shallow waters
before merging with the ocean
Ever moving
never still
motion born
of long dead storms
Trains of white riders
charging the shore
A bullying wind
batters the cowering homesteads
Stretching uphill
to end at the church
views opening out
west along the coast
Like so many places
in these old islands
it's given up its people
to seek riches abroad
Or pledge fielty unto death
For a distant king
The village awaits
The return of the departed
Whether in this life
or in the one beyond
At the setting of the sun
Or at the Breaking of the Day
on the southern horizon
The endless sea
stretching out north
The old land falls
from the cliff edge
to its ruins
the sea toys with the stack below
A single line of houses
along the edge of the loch
another line marching
on the opposing skyline
The moorland waters drain off
to rest for a while
in the shallow waters
before merging with the ocean
Ever moving
never still
motion born
of long dead storms
Trains of white riders
charging the shore
A bullying wind
batters the cowering homesteads
Stretching uphill
to end at the church
views opening out
west along the coast
Like so many places
in these old islands
it's given up its people
to seek riches abroad
Or pledge fielty unto death
For a distant king
The village awaits
The return of the departed
Whether in this life
or in the one beyond
At the setting of the sun
Or at the Breaking of the Day
Pentland Road
A ribbon of black
threads across
the trackless moor
hugging contours
Distant hills
looming either side
blue pieces of glass
reflecting the high sky
Dark blankets roll away
in green, yellow, brown
and black to the horizon
waiting to be cut for fuel
The road forks
where rocky hillocks crop out
angling down along the riverbank
and coming to end at the pierhead
threads across
the trackless moor
hugging contours
Distant hills
looming either side
blue pieces of glass
reflecting the high sky
Dark blankets roll away
in green, yellow, brown
and black to the horizon
waiting to be cut for fuel
The road forks
where rocky hillocks crop out
angling down along the riverbank
and coming to end at the pierhead
Sunset
Golden rays caress the sky
languid clouds
slowly moving east
an ever-changing mosaic
A cooling breeze
gently touches
the hilltop, slowly turning
brown as autumn progresses
Greens of leaves
makes way for the
grey of denuded
treebranches
Greens of grasses
turn yellow then
fade into the
background of blackened heath
The wind reminisces
as the sun bids us good night
angling its rays ever higher
airbrushing the sky pink
Slowly, colour fades
from the skye, the hills
the sea
Night has fallen
languid clouds
slowly moving east
an ever-changing mosaic
A cooling breeze
gently touches
the hilltop, slowly turning
brown as autumn progresses
Greens of leaves
makes way for the
grey of denuded
treebranches
Greens of grasses
turn yellow then
fade into the
background of blackened heath
The wind reminisces
as the sun bids us good night
angling its rays ever higher
airbrushing the sky pink
Slowly, colour fades
from the skye, the hills
the sea
Night has fallen
Tides
Low tide
The bar stretches
across the entrance to the basin
a rapid outflow the sole break
An old engine
now just a lump of rust
with a few floats
attached
Dirty mud with stones
seaweed
empty shells
gulls squawking
A squirt of water
scallops
other inhabited shells
try not to stand out
Six hours later
Only water
All else aforementioned?
Under 17 feet of water
The bar stretches
across the entrance to the basin
a rapid outflow the sole break
An old engine
now just a lump of rust
with a few floats
attached
Dirty mud with stones
seaweed
empty shells
gulls squawking
A squirt of water
scallops
other inhabited shells
try not to stand out
Six hours later
Only water
All else aforementioned?
Under 17 feet of water
Heron
Along the water's edge
Stepping on tall legs
Looking for
a meal
in
the
water
SNAP!
Lazily, the heron
flies off to its
nest
in the treetops
Stepping on tall legs
Looking for
a meal
in
the
water
SNAP!
Lazily, the heron
flies off to its
nest
in the treetops
Autumn day
Rivers running down the glass
Distorting the view outside
A rapid patter of drops
and an impatient buffeting by wind
Visibility quite poor
but there isn't much to see
today is an autumnal day
as chill makes way for mild
Darkness falls near four fifteen
and daylight's getting very short
Six weeks left till solstice day
and we'll hunker down some more
Bowed down into the wind
Minimising time outside
warmed by a cosy fire
ignoring mother nature's ill temper
Distorting the view outside
A rapid patter of drops
and an impatient buffeting by wind
Visibility quite poor
but there isn't much to see
today is an autumnal day
as chill makes way for mild
Darkness falls near four fifteen
and daylight's getting very short
Six weeks left till solstice day
and we'll hunker down some more
Bowed down into the wind
Minimising time outside
warmed by a cosy fire
ignoring mother nature's ill temper
Remembrance Sunday
They gather round
under clearing skies
remembering those
gone on ahead
Through war and strife
the trumpet sounds
and all fall silent
to contemplate
The sun comes out
and the trumpet calls
Awake!
A new day dawns
The wreaths remain
We will remember
Their today
For our tomorrow
under clearing skies
remembering those
gone on ahead
Through war and strife
the trumpet sounds
and all fall silent
to contemplate
The sun comes out
and the trumpet calls
Awake!
A new day dawns
The wreaths remain
We will remember
Their today
For our tomorrow
Lewis War Memorial
Twenty-three plaques
More than fiteen hundred names
Standing in a circle
Below a prominent tower
Looking out over the town
Over the Minch
which they all had to cross
but never to return
Looking out over the island
At the villages near and far
From where they flocked
Eagerly but with hidden trepidation
In a circle near the top
their names are remembered
Parish by parish
In each World War
On land, in France or Mesopotamia
Out at sea, in the Atlantic or in the Mediterranean
In the skies over Britain and Europe
or even further from home
But closest to home
Within view of the tower now
The two hundred who drowned
at Holm Point, as 1919 started
Twenty-three plaques
More than fifteen hundred names
Remembered by theirs
Remembered by us all
More than fiteen hundred names
Standing in a circle
Below a prominent tower
Looking out over the town
Over the Minch
which they all had to cross
but never to return
Looking out over the island
At the villages near and far
From where they flocked
Eagerly but with hidden trepidation
In a circle near the top
their names are remembered
Parish by parish
In each World War
On land, in France or Mesopotamia
Out at sea, in the Atlantic or in the Mediterranean
In the skies over Britain and Europe
or even further from home
But closest to home
Within view of the tower now
The two hundred who drowned
at Holm Point, as 1919 started
Twenty-three plaques
More than fifteen hundred names
Remembered by theirs
Remembered by us all
Calum Zachary
Hey, where are you?
Need a word, real quick
You and I, well, what do you say?
Be together for good
But listen, we're poor
Can't get any land
Your folks have so little
splitting it would leave even less
Don't get me wrong, though
I'll be yours alright
We are as one
And will always be
Look, come look, who's that?
He's here for the money
What my dad hasn't got
Hasn't had for so long
Hey, where are you?
Got some news, bad and good
We've got to leave the island
Dad's been turned off his land
Come with me tonight
Nothing left here for us
We'll start a new life together
Take our chance, wherever
They were to meet on the pierhead
To start afresh somewhere
The moon set early though
and darkness shrouded all
He could not find his lady
She could not find her man
He therefore went to America
without his love by his side
His name was Calum Zachary
A name living on in song
echoing his loss
across the waves and years
Need a word, real quick
You and I, well, what do you say?
Be together for good
But listen, we're poor
Can't get any land
Your folks have so little
splitting it would leave even less
Don't get me wrong, though
I'll be yours alright
We are as one
And will always be
Look, come look, who's that?
He's here for the money
What my dad hasn't got
Hasn't had for so long
Hey, where are you?
Got some news, bad and good
We've got to leave the island
Dad's been turned off his land
Come with me tonight
Nothing left here for us
We'll start a new life together
Take our chance, wherever
They were to meet on the pierhead
To start afresh somewhere
The moon set early though
and darkness shrouded all
He could not find his lady
She could not find her man
He therefore went to America
without his love by his side
His name was Calum Zachary
A name living on in song
echoing his loss
across the waves and years
To Canada
The man walked down the road
his knapsack slung over his shoulder
although he had gained some land
he had lost his neighbours
There had been only one way out
to Canada
Cutting down trees
building the Pacific railway
Gratitude had led to this separation
for the man left his family behind
sending back money
that he had earned over there
His neighbours were behind with the rent
And as he had saved the proprietor's life
The reward was a piece of land
taken off his neighbours' croft
The man did not ask for a reward
even less for more land
however useful
And certainly not at the expense of his neighbour
So he walked down the road
His family staring after him
As he disappeared in the distance
Never to return
his knapsack slung over his shoulder
although he had gained some land
he had lost his neighbours
There had been only one way out
to Canada
Cutting down trees
building the Pacific railway
Gratitude had led to this separation
for the man left his family behind
sending back money
that he had earned over there
His neighbours were behind with the rent
And as he had saved the proprietor's life
The reward was a piece of land
taken off his neighbours' croft
The man did not ask for a reward
even less for more land
however useful
And certainly not at the expense of his neighbour
So he walked down the road
His family staring after him
As he disappeared in the distance
Never to return
9 November
Light fills the room
refracted by hundreds of
finely cut crystals
hanging from the chandelier
A fire demurely crackles
in the hearth
filling the room
with warmth and comfort
A waltz gently plays
and couples glide
in tender embrace
along the polished floor
Darkness rules outside
as does the November chill
wafting along city centre streets
with marked windows
Light flares up rudely
as a bonfire shoots tongues
of fire into the night sky
illuminating the scene
Light flares up further
refracted by thousands
of crystals scattered
along streets of darkness
Gaping mouths where windows were
Glass pulverised into countless crystals
Fire spreads
consuming the culture
Books are burned
their writers were deemed unfit
for the country whose Leader
sought to exterminate
The millions of fragments
of broken glass, of crystal
scatter the light of the fire
burning the synagogues
Soon the worshippers
will follow the fate of their temple
The light of the fire
overshadows the continent
Dying into dull embers
the dancers fade into shadows
as the light goes out over Europe
on Kristallnacht
refracted by hundreds of
finely cut crystals
hanging from the chandelier
A fire demurely crackles
in the hearth
filling the room
with warmth and comfort
A waltz gently plays
and couples glide
in tender embrace
along the polished floor
Darkness rules outside
as does the November chill
wafting along city centre streets
with marked windows
Light flares up rudely
as a bonfire shoots tongues
of fire into the night sky
illuminating the scene
Light flares up further
refracted by thousands
of crystals scattered
along streets of darkness
Gaping mouths where windows were
Glass pulverised into countless crystals
Fire spreads
consuming the culture
Books are burned
their writers were deemed unfit
for the country whose Leader
sought to exterminate
The millions of fragments
of broken glass, of crystal
scatter the light of the fire
burning the synagogues
Soon the worshippers
will follow the fate of their temple
The light of the fire
overshadows the continent
Dying into dull embers
the dancers fade into shadows
as the light goes out over Europe
on Kristallnacht
Stulaval
Now derelict on the shore of Loch Reasort
Little Luachair stands
Years back a carpenter came
over the hills from Bowglass
After job's end he was left
with some planks
which he carried back
below the frowning cliffs
A sound of hammerblows
echoed below the face
of stern Stulaval
Regular and slow
Turning around
the carpenter espied
nothing
and nobody
But the tapping
continued
Soon he descended
over the hills into Vigadale
Reached home but
his hearth was cold
and nobody around
except his wife, no longer alive
The carpenter hammered
his wife's coffin
An echo of the hammerblows
Below cold Stulaval
Little Luachair stands
Years back a carpenter came
over the hills from Bowglass
After job's end he was left
with some planks
which he carried back
below the frowning cliffs
A sound of hammerblows
echoed below the face
of stern Stulaval
Regular and slow
Turning around
the carpenter espied
nothing
and nobody
But the tapping
continued
Soon he descended
over the hills into Vigadale
Reached home but
his hearth was cold
and nobody around
except his wife, no longer alive
The carpenter hammered
his wife's coffin
An echo of the hammerblows
Below cold Stulaval
In spring
I met you on the rising road
that sunny afternoon in April
Innocent eyes looking up
as I looked down
The dark mountains loomed
over the deep waters
under the rays of the
springtime sun
A first spring with
gentle winds from
the distant seas
carrying aloft the shadows
Their calls mocked
at what they had taken
not caring, in fact
relishing and enjoying
She was expiring
as I approached
only a step or two
from the roadside edge
You did not know
but looked at me to explain
what was beyond your days
and was to befall you too
The sun shone through
the pink ears of the young lamb
The ewe was breathing its last
after being blinded by crows
that sunny afternoon in April
Innocent eyes looking up
as I looked down
The dark mountains loomed
over the deep waters
under the rays of the
springtime sun
A first spring with
gentle winds from
the distant seas
carrying aloft the shadows
Their calls mocked
at what they had taken
not caring, in fact
relishing and enjoying
She was expiring
as I approached
only a step or two
from the roadside edge
You did not know
but looked at me to explain
what was beyond your days
and was to befall you too
The sun shone through
the pink ears of the young lamb
The ewe was breathing its last
after being blinded by crows
A dreich day
Light fades over the islands
Grey to greyer still
not a ray of
sunshine to be had today
The drizzle hides
what isn't that far off
the breeze shakes
the now bare branches
From sun-soaked seas
to the northern Hebrides
a final hint of distant
summer wafts our way
Soon the edge of mild
will move away east
leaving us with crisp
and once more chill
A grain of hail
a splash of wet snow
winter draws near
dark at half four
Look north for the
merry dancers
a moving green
curtain down from the pole
Even further north
beyond the land of fire
no sunshine at all
on solstice day
Grey to greyer still
not a ray of
sunshine to be had today
The drizzle hides
what isn't that far off
the breeze shakes
the now bare branches
From sun-soaked seas
to the northern Hebrides
a final hint of distant
summer wafts our way
Soon the edge of mild
will move away east
leaving us with crisp
and once more chill
A grain of hail
a splash of wet snow
winter draws near
dark at half four
Look north for the
merry dancers
a moving green
curtain down from the pole
Even further north
beyond the land of fire
no sunshine at all
on solstice day
The Pabbay boat
Row boys, row!
We're going out again
The sail will help us on our way
Out to the fishing grounds
Look, there goes another boat
They too are venturing forth
Can't be too bad a day
If we're all out here just now
Ominous grey clouds
scudding on the rising wind
soon touching galeforce
soon right up to stormforce
From the open ocean
Squalls of rain fly past
The islands loom up to the west
Now shrouded from sight
Row boys, row!
We've got to turn back
if we can
The sail has gone
Did you see the others?
Not for quite some time
Never mind, keep bailing
We may yet have a chance
Two days the storm lasted
nobody could put to sea
the herring was left uncaught
as the boats remained in port
The boat from Mingulay
weathered the storm to return
to their island
safe and well
Pabbay lost ALL
its menfolk
that May Day in 1897
all in one boat
We're going out again
The sail will help us on our way
Out to the fishing grounds
Look, there goes another boat
They too are venturing forth
Can't be too bad a day
If we're all out here just now
Ominous grey clouds
scudding on the rising wind
soon touching galeforce
soon right up to stormforce
From the open ocean
Squalls of rain fly past
The islands loom up to the west
Now shrouded from sight
Row boys, row!
We've got to turn back
if we can
The sail has gone
Did you see the others?
Not for quite some time
Never mind, keep bailing
We may yet have a chance
Two days the storm lasted
nobody could put to sea
the herring was left uncaught
as the boats remained in port
The boat from Mingulay
weathered the storm to return
to their island
safe and well
Pabbay lost ALL
its menfolk
that May Day in 1897
all in one boat
Flat calm
Flat calm
Upside down
in the water
Indistinguishable
Reflections
or original
Even the lighthouse
perhaps even the mountains far-off
Benign clouds
slowly move
on an unseen
but unfelt wind
A small boat
carves through
the mirror which
quickly resmoothes
Dusk slowly
overtakes and dulls
the reflections of
daytime
To be replaced
by the high moon
of nearing winter
Enoy the calm - while it lasts
Upside down
in the water
Indistinguishable
Reflections
or original
Even the lighthouse
perhaps even the mountains far-off
Benign clouds
slowly move
on an unseen
but unfelt wind
A small boat
carves through
the mirror which
quickly resmoothes
Dusk slowly
overtakes and dulls
the reflections of
daytime
To be replaced
by the high moon
of nearing winter
Enoy the calm - while it lasts
Sunday
The grey canopy
breaks to the southeast
A promise of sunshine
over the mainland hills
A gentle rain
falls over grey streets
calm and movementless
a Sunday morning
Worshippers proceed
to church in an orderly
fashion, quietly so
to beseech blessings
Whether He listens
is up to Him to decide
Most appear favoured
others are oblivious
Should we go somewhere
on the day of rest
None are disturbed
Peace has remained
Our link to the world
will sail in the afternoon
Another link takes to the air
But none are disturbed
breaks to the southeast
A promise of sunshine
over the mainland hills
A gentle rain
falls over grey streets
calm and movementless
a Sunday morning
Worshippers proceed
to church in an orderly
fashion, quietly so
to beseech blessings
Whether He listens
is up to Him to decide
Most appear favoured
others are oblivious
Should we go somewhere
on the day of rest
None are disturbed
Peace has remained
Our link to the world
will sail in the afternoon
Another link takes to the air
But none are disturbed
November
Low sun
pale blue sky
bare branches
a cold wind
Dark green losing
colour to palest hue
Leaves gently
drift down
Demure yellow
before falling
Standing out
in final glory
Riches in berries
seeds being scattered
in the blanket of leaves
new life in waiting
Dark clouds speed in
the wind lifts its voice
the command is heeded
Leaves scatter
Distant hills don
their white caps
the sun now sets early
ice glazes what rain has wetted
The signal is raised
The window is open
For the voice of the North
To sing the final of the year
pale blue sky
bare branches
a cold wind
Dark green losing
colour to palest hue
Leaves gently
drift down
Demure yellow
before falling
Standing out
in final glory
Riches in berries
seeds being scattered
in the blanket of leaves
new life in waiting
Dark clouds speed in
the wind lifts its voice
the command is heeded
Leaves scatter
Distant hills don
their white caps
the sun now sets early
ice glazes what rain has wetted
The signal is raised
The window is open
For the voice of the North
To sing the final of the year
The clearance
Let's have some cuts
can't sustain all that lumber
I'm not here to provide
for those that can't help themselves
Back when Napoleon strode
the battlefields of Europe
we needed gunpowder
and only kelp would do
I had those natives
along the shoreline cutting
seaweed for me for
just a few bob
They didn't need much land
but now they're just sitting there
eating out of my pocket
leaving me out of pocket for all the meal
Going forth and multiplying
well, they can go on daddy's croft
divide, subdivide
and rule
I want my money out of them
Can't get it from anywhere else
Can't afford to be seen to be less rich
So they can't afford the rent?
Gone round the villages
Who's in arrears, off you go
We'll cancel what's owed
if you go to America
Here is the ship
you can take so much
leave the rest behind
including your relatives
Don't want to go, how dare you
Torch to the roof
Milk on the fire,
OK, we'll let you bury your dead
The statue stands grand
in the deserted glen
Green fields of grass
Rolling hills around
The statue stands grand
in the Canadian city
The achievements celebrated
of those boldly gone forth
Did they want to leave their
humble homesteads
where their forefathers
lived happily?
Achievements for sure
Many did great things
in the land of the prairie
But why not in their homeland?
can't sustain all that lumber
I'm not here to provide
for those that can't help themselves
Back when Napoleon strode
the battlefields of Europe
we needed gunpowder
and only kelp would do
I had those natives
along the shoreline cutting
seaweed for me for
just a few bob
They didn't need much land
but now they're just sitting there
eating out of my pocket
leaving me out of pocket for all the meal
Going forth and multiplying
well, they can go on daddy's croft
divide, subdivide
and rule
I want my money out of them
Can't get it from anywhere else
Can't afford to be seen to be less rich
So they can't afford the rent?
Gone round the villages
Who's in arrears, off you go
We'll cancel what's owed
if you go to America
Here is the ship
you can take so much
leave the rest behind
including your relatives
Don't want to go, how dare you
Torch to the roof
Milk on the fire,
OK, we'll let you bury your dead
The statue stands grand
in the deserted glen
Green fields of grass
Rolling hills around
The statue stands grand
in the Canadian city
The achievements celebrated
of those boldly gone forth
Did they want to leave their
humble homesteads
where their forefathers
lived happily?
Achievements for sure
Many did great things
in the land of the prairie
But why not in their homeland?
Callanish
Sun and moon
seasons' cycle
winter snow
round to autumn rain
Marked out in stones
high on the ridge top
two dozen others
not far away
Aligned to distant hills
obscuring the moon
when the nights
are not dark
One was interred
in the centre circle
where he is now, none know
but not there for sure
They come now from far-off lands
to visit the stones
celebrate the sunrise
at solstice, forgetting the moon
All is quiet
as the days shorten
winds batter the circle
impervious to what passes
They have seen many
pass by
never returning
They will remain
seasons' cycle
winter snow
round to autumn rain
Marked out in stones
high on the ridge top
two dozen others
not far away
Aligned to distant hills
obscuring the moon
when the nights
are not dark
One was interred
in the centre circle
where he is now, none know
but not there for sure
They come now from far-off lands
to visit the stones
celebrate the sunrise
at solstice, forgetting the moon
All is quiet
as the days shorten
winds batter the circle
impervious to what passes
They have seen many
pass by
never returning
They will remain
The old cemetery
A rusty gate
from the sandy dunes
A wall of stone
on all four sides
A rock-strewn hillside
inside
The sea incessantly
speaks from the shore
Strange
no rocks
outside the walls
just flower-clad sands
Rolling away
in every direction
down to the ocean
their ancient roadway
Living from the bounty
of the ever-present sea
it would exact its price
giving change - wreckage on the shore
Living in penury
but happily
demure hamlets
strung out to the north
Poor ground prompted
a move inland for summer
gathering fuel
before the storms came
Unknown were the riches
in money and goods
Riches in happiness and
the strength of kinship
Only a rock
remains within walls
a mark of ending
to remember their days
Nine thousand you'll find
on that rock-strewn hillside
No carved tombstone
Just a rock
from the sandy dunes
A wall of stone
on all four sides
A rock-strewn hillside
inside
The sea incessantly
speaks from the shore
Strange
no rocks
outside the walls
just flower-clad sands
Rolling away
in every direction
down to the ocean
their ancient roadway
Living from the bounty
of the ever-present sea
it would exact its price
giving change - wreckage on the shore
Living in penury
but happily
demure hamlets
strung out to the north
Poor ground prompted
a move inland for summer
gathering fuel
before the storms came
Unknown were the riches
in money and goods
Riches in happiness and
the strength of kinship
Only a rock
remains within walls
a mark of ending
to remember their days
Nine thousand you'll find
on that rock-strewn hillside
No carved tombstone
Just a rock
Chessmen?
Village by the sand
hiding the ninety-one
pieces carved from ivory
brought in from across the sea
Men from the north
left them for us to guess
their play with the future
after they had gone from these shores
Leaving behind only names
for the villages along the shores
the hills, bays and inlets
no further trace was left
Except the ninety-one
in the sand by the village
along the bay that named a whole district
Were they chessmen?
hiding the ninety-one
pieces carved from ivory
brought in from across the sea
Men from the north
left them for us to guess
their play with the future
after they had gone from these shores
Leaving behind only names
for the villages along the shores
the hills, bays and inlets
no further trace was left
Except the ninety-one
in the sand by the village
along the bay that named a whole district
Were they chessmen?
The circle of peat
Distant summers
Forgotten breezes
Rains long since flowed to sea
The autumns of years
Green growth
Long grass
First yellow
Now brown
Moss capturing moisture
Deepening below
Cracks open in drought
Disappear in wet seasons
The memory of years
cut with the spade
dried over weeks
as the sun rises high
Stacked by the house
prepared for winter
to release warmth
when the cold wind blows
Smelling of springtime
smoke drifts away
the cycle completes
the circle of peat
Forgotten breezes
Rains long since flowed to sea
The autumns of years
Green growth
Long grass
First yellow
Now brown
Moss capturing moisture
Deepening below
Cracks open in drought
Disappear in wet seasons
The memory of years
cut with the spade
dried over weeks
as the sun rises high
Stacked by the house
prepared for winter
to release warmth
when the cold wind blows
Smelling of springtime
smoke drifts away
the cycle completes
the circle of peat
Arnol
Empty windows look out on the yellowed grass
Panes blown out in a forgotten gale
Tiles disappearing from the roof
But no one is caring
The ocean thunders onto distant cliffs
A moving wreath around the western coast
An army of white riders incessantly
assail the crumbling fortress that is shore
Sagging poles carry rusting wire
No longer delineating the patch
of infertile, poor, unsustaining ground
where once cattle and sheep grazed
The door has gone, a void beyond
Another frame behind, also unshuttered
Countless rocks from the empire of
sonte, yet choked with rocks the ground remains
Walls stand up, bewildered now that
the roof has vanished, perhaps
a beam remains, collapsed into
the ruin below
A squall blows in, the scene darkens
no shelter here, in the old dwelling
an echo of years gone by
left as an in memoriam
Fled the yoke of the man in the castle
his cruel minions who cared not
to improve the lives of those
he was in charge of caring for
A distant gun echoes, multiplying the life it took
by countless millions, including
those who answered the call
from the humble abodes out here
Now crumbling slowly, remembering
the golden days of long sunshine and warmth
laughter, singing, merry-making
love, kinship and bonds
Some crossed the seas for better lives
Never to return to the humble home
Looking down to the shoreline below
Remembering all who departed
Panes blown out in a forgotten gale
Tiles disappearing from the roof
But no one is caring
The ocean thunders onto distant cliffs
A moving wreath around the western coast
An army of white riders incessantly
assail the crumbling fortress that is shore
Sagging poles carry rusting wire
No longer delineating the patch
of infertile, poor, unsustaining ground
where once cattle and sheep grazed
The door has gone, a void beyond
Another frame behind, also unshuttered
Countless rocks from the empire of
sonte, yet choked with rocks the ground remains
Walls stand up, bewildered now that
the roof has vanished, perhaps
a beam remains, collapsed into
the ruin below
A squall blows in, the scene darkens
no shelter here, in the old dwelling
an echo of years gone by
left as an in memoriam
Fled the yoke of the man in the castle
his cruel minions who cared not
to improve the lives of those
he was in charge of caring for
A distant gun echoes, multiplying the life it took
by countless millions, including
those who answered the call
from the humble abodes out here
Now crumbling slowly, remembering
the golden days of long sunshine and warmth
laughter, singing, merry-making
love, kinship and bonds
Some crossed the seas for better lives
Never to return to the humble home
Looking down to the shoreline below
Remembering all who departed
Home is the island
Distant shapes on the eastern horizon
The mainland hills, rarely well defined
Far-off mountains beckoning
Sometimes speaking of winter's cold
Alluring to some, in search of great riches
Seeking a better life beyond their range
The lights of the big city
Moving fast, gaining the high life
Dashing up the social ladder
The comforts of a well-filled purse
Poverty, though, is not just monetary
And fair-weather does not filter your friends
But even when all seems so good
One thing though is missing
It'll always be there, on the western horizon
With the lighthouse beaming its call at dusk
As the ferry leaves Loch Broom behind
And Sutherland's mountains recede in the distance
Tiumpan and Arnish winking their welcome
As the boat glides towards the pier
Familiar faces and familiar buildings
The quiet streets in the dim streetlamps' light
The dark roads beyond town but comforting
Home at last, and here to stay
The mainland hills, rarely well defined
Far-off mountains beckoning
Sometimes speaking of winter's cold
Alluring to some, in search of great riches
Seeking a better life beyond their range
The lights of the big city
Moving fast, gaining the high life
Dashing up the social ladder
The comforts of a well-filled purse
Poverty, though, is not just monetary
And fair-weather does not filter your friends
But even when all seems so good
One thing though is missing
It'll always be there, on the western horizon
With the lighthouse beaming its call at dusk
As the ferry leaves Loch Broom behind
And Sutherland's mountains recede in the distance
Tiumpan and Arnish winking their welcome
As the boat glides towards the pier
Familiar faces and familiar buildings
The quiet streets in the dim streetlamps' light
The dark roads beyond town but comforting
Home at last, and here to stay
Hurricane!
Overhead in the sky beating down
the sun radiates its immeasurable heat
absorbed by the waters of this world
gradually warming - east to west
Cloudless skies show countless suns
at an inconceivable distance
reaching there would be
after the end of this planet
Rising from the surface of the ocean
evaporated water, using
some of the sun's heat to escape
higher up into the sky
Reverting back to liquid
releasing the energy again
Towering nearly a dozen miles up
A shard of lightning leaves a trail of thunder
As our world turns, so do the storms
Winds being to blow, higher
The eye up above espies
the signal given - formation alert
The heat from the water now channels
right to the top of the clouds
which have cooled in sharp contrast
Turbulence rises, a storm is born
Dark clouds arrive
over the tropical horizon
Limpid heat blown away
in amazing fury
Rain lashes horizontally
Trees bend if not snap
Hunker down, seek shelter
It's over!
Not so
A calm of an hour
Distant roaring amidst
the deceptive sunshine
Opposing winds resume
their path of destruction
until it has passed
leaving but wreckage
The balance is restored
Heat is transferred to the pole of the earth
Through the winds of the cyclone
The safety valve has worked - equilibrium rules
the sun radiates its immeasurable heat
absorbed by the waters of this world
gradually warming - east to west
Cloudless skies show countless suns
at an inconceivable distance
reaching there would be
after the end of this planet
Rising from the surface of the ocean
evaporated water, using
some of the sun's heat to escape
higher up into the sky
Reverting back to liquid
releasing the energy again
Towering nearly a dozen miles up
A shard of lightning leaves a trail of thunder
As our world turns, so do the storms
Winds being to blow, higher
The eye up above espies
the signal given - formation alert
The heat from the water now channels
right to the top of the clouds
which have cooled in sharp contrast
Turbulence rises, a storm is born
Dark clouds arrive
over the tropical horizon
Limpid heat blown away
in amazing fury
Rain lashes horizontally
Trees bend if not snap
Hunker down, seek shelter
It's over!
Not so
A calm of an hour
Distant roaring amidst
the deceptive sunshine
Opposing winds resume
their path of destruction
until it has passed
leaving but wreckage
The balance is restored
Heat is transferred to the pole of the earth
Through the winds of the cyclone
The safety valve has worked - equilibrium rules
A wet day
Hueless grey drapes across the skies
Uniform in colour, or lack of it
The sun, wan and without warmth,
peeps through the veil a final time
A single drop falls on the ground
followed by countless more
the window soon is streaming
if there was light, the wet road would shine
Darkness comes in well before
the sun heads towards dusk
Lights come on, although it's daytime
Cheerless gloom slowly moves up from the east
The yellow glare of the street lanterns
is softened by the glow of light
reflected by the falling rain
closed out by drawn curtains
A fire dully flickers in the hearth
born of sunshine from when the earth was young
chases the chill of a rainy day
away out and up the chimney
Uniform in colour, or lack of it
The sun, wan and without warmth,
peeps through the veil a final time
A single drop falls on the ground
followed by countless more
the window soon is streaming
if there was light, the wet road would shine
Darkness comes in well before
the sun heads towards dusk
Lights come on, although it's daytime
Cheerless gloom slowly moves up from the east
The yellow glare of the street lanterns
is softened by the glow of light
reflected by the falling rain
closed out by drawn curtains
A fire dully flickers in the hearth
born of sunshine from when the earth was young
chases the chill of a rainy day
away out and up the chimney
A warning of winter
The last leaves gently float down from the trees
Their dried out husks rustle along the ground
in the cold autumn wind, gathering up
in sheltered corners
Proud stand the clouds, with their white crowns
Robes of white and grey flowing
Rain? No, hail and snow, bitterly cold
The north wind carries a deep bite
Slush in secluded corners from
forgotten hailstones, which have omitted
to melt and will freeze
after the setting of the wan sun
A ribbon of black slopes gradually up
angling over the broad shoulders
of the dark grey mountains
No slush here, just a layer of snow
Go carefully, follow the tracks
if not already filled in by new snow
Here where it's high up, winter has come
But it's yet shy of the seashore
Up by the tops, wearing a trial bonnet
of unwashed white
the winds howl unimpeded
shouting an early warning
Come morning, autumn will have returned
No whites, just dark greens, browns and greys
But for how long?
Until winter truly comes.
Their dried out husks rustle along the ground
in the cold autumn wind, gathering up
in sheltered corners
Proud stand the clouds, with their white crowns
Robes of white and grey flowing
Rain? No, hail and snow, bitterly cold
The north wind carries a deep bite
Slush in secluded corners from
forgotten hailstones, which have omitted
to melt and will freeze
after the setting of the wan sun
A ribbon of black slopes gradually up
angling over the broad shoulders
of the dark grey mountains
No slush here, just a layer of snow
Go carefully, follow the tracks
if not already filled in by new snow
Here where it's high up, winter has come
But it's yet shy of the seashore
Up by the tops, wearing a trial bonnet
of unwashed white
the winds howl unimpeded
shouting an early warning
Come morning, autumn will have returned
No whites, just dark greens, browns and greys
But for how long?
Until winter truly comes.
The bridge to Bosta
Two planks across the rowing boat
A motor car perched precariously
The ferryman rows ponderously
Across the narrow strait with fast flowing water
To work she came, the new nurse for Bernera
Only just on the island an urgent call came
To the house by little Tobson
A young lad lay drowned, claimed by the sea
To no avail did she work to bring him to life
The spirit of life was long gone
A sadness enveloped that house
Close by the double beach
Four times they have tried now
Ever foiled by the tidal currents
Will it work this time round
To drive the bridge’s pillars into the seabed?
The bridge is in place, its engineer proud
The ferryman’s out of a job
Cross the narrows to the Tir Mor
With dry feet and no fear of water
The bridge engineer took the nurse as his wife
And took her far far away
Over the bridge to Tir Mor
And beyond the shores of this land
Never would she reside there again
However much she yearned to one day
Cast her gaze over the wild beach at Bosta
And once more call it home
From the Southern Cross to North Star
Was her last journey beyond this life
The road ended at Bosta
Where now her spirit remains
In memory of Peggy Macleod, 1927-1989
Tir Mor is the local name for the area of “mainland” Lewis south of the Bernera Bridge, containing the villages of Lundale, Crulivig and Earshader.
A motor car perched precariously
The ferryman rows ponderously
Across the narrow strait with fast flowing water
To work she came, the new nurse for Bernera
Only just on the island an urgent call came
To the house by little Tobson
A young lad lay drowned, claimed by the sea
To no avail did she work to bring him to life
The spirit of life was long gone
A sadness enveloped that house
Close by the double beach
Four times they have tried now
Ever foiled by the tidal currents
Will it work this time round
To drive the bridge’s pillars into the seabed?
The bridge is in place, its engineer proud
The ferryman’s out of a job
Cross the narrows to the Tir Mor
With dry feet and no fear of water
The bridge engineer took the nurse as his wife
And took her far far away
Over the bridge to Tir Mor
And beyond the shores of this land
Never would she reside there again
However much she yearned to one day
Cast her gaze over the wild beach at Bosta
And once more call it home
From the Southern Cross to North Star
Was her last journey beyond this life
The road ended at Bosta
Where now her spirit remains
In memory of Peggy Macleod, 1927-1989
Tir Mor is the local name for the area of “mainland” Lewis south of the Bernera Bridge, containing the villages of Lundale, Crulivig and Earshader.
Bosta
Deep blue seas hurrying through
a narrow channel to the next island
None left there as permanent residents
Only the markers to those gone before
The village in the sand was stirred
by violent winds from the present age
what did it look like, they wanted to know
only guesswork
Yielding an edifice that's stood
the test of time, but failed the one of modernity
Above the sands and past the river
None now live there, others come admiring
A dark storm looms from the northwest
The islands fade in the squalls of winter
Reappearing in blinding clearances
in a white wreath of flying foam
From small to larger the people were moved
To the township southeast, round the minister's manse
Further southeast more ancient a temple
Not to the sun but for observing the moon
Long gone have the people who erected the stones
Long gone are those driven away
At the whim of a minion, not caring
but for his master's pocket
Only the beach now remains
With the islands beyond
And the memory of those gone before
At Bosta
a narrow channel to the next island
None left there as permanent residents
Only the markers to those gone before
The village in the sand was stirred
by violent winds from the present age
what did it look like, they wanted to know
only guesswork
Yielding an edifice that's stood
the test of time, but failed the one of modernity
Above the sands and past the river
None now live there, others come admiring
A dark storm looms from the northwest
The islands fade in the squalls of winter
Reappearing in blinding clearances
in a white wreath of flying foam
From small to larger the people were moved
To the township southeast, round the minister's manse
Further southeast more ancient a temple
Not to the sun but for observing the moon
Long gone have the people who erected the stones
Long gone are those driven away
At the whim of a minion, not caring
but for his master's pocket
Only the beach now remains
With the islands beyond
And the memory of those gone before
At Bosta
Foggy morning
Wreathing in white and not a sound
Except the intermittent blaring horn
Damp and dank, hiding all
Visibility nil, humidity high
Light increases from the dawn
A wading bird's warbling call
The steady chugging of an engine
But not a thing in sight
The eastern horizon turns golden
The sun arises, and in scorn
rips a tear in the pale white blanket
showing a nearby hillside, part exposed
Slowly, steadily the tears increase
As familiar landmarks reappear
A ship closing in to dock
The quayside with its bollards too
Last to reemerge for distance
The monument on the hilltop yonder
Whilst the lighthouse in bemusement
Watches over the dissipating cloud
Quickly now the wisps disperse
Hiding in the moorland's folds
But even there the sun will come
Victorious into a golden day
Except the intermittent blaring horn
Damp and dank, hiding all
Visibility nil, humidity high
Light increases from the dawn
A wading bird's warbling call
The steady chugging of an engine
But not a thing in sight
The eastern horizon turns golden
The sun arises, and in scorn
rips a tear in the pale white blanket
showing a nearby hillside, part exposed
Slowly, steadily the tears increase
As familiar landmarks reappear
A ship closing in to dock
The quayside with its bollards too
Last to reemerge for distance
The monument on the hilltop yonder
Whilst the lighthouse in bemusement
Watches over the dissipating cloud
Quickly now the wisps disperse
Hiding in the moorland's folds
But even there the sun will come
Victorious into a golden day
The promise
As colour fades from the evening sky
A promise of renewal the next day
Whether sunny, cloudy, rain or snow
Colour will return another morn
The last leaf drifts down to earth
Nuts litter the woodland ground
A promise of renewal the next year
Life will return another day
Winter cold approaches from the north
As daylight hours diminish by the day
Soon white will dominate the land
Accentuating what colour is left
As snow blankets the sleeping soil
And fierce winds strafe the land
Green curtains flow in the distant north
And stars are seen for longer than the sun
But when winter's grasp seems fiercest
Unbreakable it would seem
Green tips pierce the frozen soil
And delicate blooms emerge
From underneath the warm white layer
The promise is fulfilled
And soon the winter cold takes flight
With light and colour restored
Eventually day and night equal in length
The snow retreats to the mountain tops
Life recurs, gambolling in play
As lambs fulfil the promise of life
A promise of renewal the next day
Whether sunny, cloudy, rain or snow
Colour will return another morn
The last leaf drifts down to earth
Nuts litter the woodland ground
A promise of renewal the next year
Life will return another day
Winter cold approaches from the north
As daylight hours diminish by the day
Soon white will dominate the land
Accentuating what colour is left
As snow blankets the sleeping soil
And fierce winds strafe the land
Green curtains flow in the distant north
And stars are seen for longer than the sun
But when winter's grasp seems fiercest
Unbreakable it would seem
Green tips pierce the frozen soil
And delicate blooms emerge
From underneath the warm white layer
The promise is fulfilled
And soon the winter cold takes flight
With light and colour restored
Eventually day and night equal in length
The snow retreats to the mountain tops
Life recurs, gambolling in play
As lambs fulfil the promise of life
The boat
Sailing the waters of the far northwest
Braving the elements, fair and foul
Guarding the lives of all on board
Bringing their livelihood safely to shore
Aided by motorpower, perhaps earlier sail
A net from the stern, or a line athwart
Hooks to catch mackerel
A creel for some crabs, or a lobster
Within sight of Suilven, Stac Polly or An Teallach
The Clisham a beacon, high up in Harris
Bowing for the blue men of Shiant
Or bucking in the Atlantic swell
Hastily brought in for that storm of a lifetime
Tethered on a mooring, in safety they thought
Found crashed on the boulders
When the storm had blown itself out
Many's a time I walked by on Goat Island
Ever more pieces went missing each time
Until only the bow remained on the strand
And finally only its soul, winging away to the Minch
Braving the elements, fair and foul
Guarding the lives of all on board
Bringing their livelihood safely to shore
Aided by motorpower, perhaps earlier sail
A net from the stern, or a line athwart
Hooks to catch mackerel
A creel for some crabs, or a lobster
Within sight of Suilven, Stac Polly or An Teallach
The Clisham a beacon, high up in Harris
Bowing for the blue men of Shiant
Or bucking in the Atlantic swell
Hastily brought in for that storm of a lifetime
Tethered on a mooring, in safety they thought
Found crashed on the boulders
When the storm had blown itself out
Many's a time I walked by on Goat Island
Ever more pieces went missing each time
Until only the bow remained on the strand
And finally only its soul, winging away to the Minch
Dusk
The crescent moon rides
high in the sunset skies
cloudstreams far above
appear motionless
Reflected in the sea
not ruffled by movement
winking into the night
a reassurance from the lighthouse
A bird slowly glides past
looking for its last meal of the day
Nothing to be seen
darkness is nigh
Wisps of mist slowly drift by
gliding over the water
ghostly appearances
from the now faded day
The hunter now rises
chasing the bull
his two hounds faithful
close by to his east
As he moves to the west
will daybreak ensue
But what will that bring?
Only time will tell
high in the sunset skies
cloudstreams far above
appear motionless
Reflected in the sea
not ruffled by movement
winking into the night
a reassurance from the lighthouse
A bird slowly glides past
looking for its last meal of the day
Nothing to be seen
darkness is nigh
Wisps of mist slowly drift by
gliding over the water
ghostly appearances
from the now faded day
The hunter now rises
chasing the bull
his two hounds faithful
close by to his east
As he moves to the west
will daybreak ensue
But what will that bring?
Only time will tell
The internees
It seemed like such a good idea
Sign up for the reserves
Already at sea most of the time
An old salt could learn new tricks
More out than in past Arnish
Down by the Shiants
Up near Rona
Sidle up to the Atlantic, unbeatable
Go on exercise every once in a while
Get a nice sum every year
A retainer for being ready
To drop all for king and country
Well, they shot that man way out yonder
And now the world's gone mad
I've got to go down to England
Train up for the real shooting stuff
What's this, I'm told, we're in a Division?
Not at sea but on land
Mr Churchill says so, he's our boss
Down to old Antwerp, halt Jerry Hun
Not in your wildest dreams, we're going back west
Where's that train, oh dear we've missed it
The CO says go north, boys
Let's take our luck, head up into Holland
So here we are in the land of the level
An old city, kind folk
They've got as little food as we get
Horsemeat is about the best we can expect
No fighting for us, we're interned
Some have escaped, back to Blighty they went
Others were let out to help with harvest at home
Came back, as they'd given their word
Hurray! war is over, peace for our time
But we haven't really fought, have we
Our kinsmen and friends fell valiantly
Whilst we chewed the cud in the Low Countries
No, won't mention this ever again
Sign up for the reserves
Already at sea most of the time
An old salt could learn new tricks
More out than in past Arnish
Down by the Shiants
Up near Rona
Sidle up to the Atlantic, unbeatable
Go on exercise every once in a while
Get a nice sum every year
A retainer for being ready
To drop all for king and country
Well, they shot that man way out yonder
And now the world's gone mad
I've got to go down to England
Train up for the real shooting stuff
What's this, I'm told, we're in a Division?
Not at sea but on land
Mr Churchill says so, he's our boss
Down to old Antwerp, halt Jerry Hun
Not in your wildest dreams, we're going back west
Where's that train, oh dear we've missed it
The CO says go north, boys
Let's take our luck, head up into Holland
So here we are in the land of the level
An old city, kind folk
They've got as little food as we get
Horsemeat is about the best we can expect
No fighting for us, we're interned
Some have escaped, back to Blighty they went
Others were let out to help with harvest at home
Came back, as they'd given their word
Hurray! war is over, peace for our time
But we haven't really fought, have we
Our kinsmen and friends fell valiantly
Whilst we chewed the cud in the Low Countries
No, won't mention this ever again
The proprietor
A cupola and statue
Not far from his castle
Looking out east over the harbour
A man who made his mark
Now a marker of Remembrance
then a token of wealth
ruthlessly accumulated
the seedbox of the poppy, and its dried sap
A war was fabricated
in the distant Orient
over the trade in this soporific
this analgesic - this addictive
The benefactor, so hailed by some
Made many an improvement
But selective who would enjoy it
If you were in arrears, off in the boat you went
Decided by his managers
wearing more than thirty hats at once
an impressive act of balancing
an abuse of powers never seen before or since
An arbitrary power of eviction
not always based in law
exercised by those in his stead
compassion and empathy were alien to them
A mixed view from the modern times
of what some term a drugs baron
Others, one who put the island into modern times
Money talks, even to this day
Not far from his castle
Looking out east over the harbour
A man who made his mark
Now a marker of Remembrance
then a token of wealth
ruthlessly accumulated
the seedbox of the poppy, and its dried sap
A war was fabricated
in the distant Orient
over the trade in this soporific
this analgesic - this addictive
The benefactor, so hailed by some
Made many an improvement
But selective who would enjoy it
If you were in arrears, off in the boat you went
Decided by his managers
wearing more than thirty hats at once
an impressive act of balancing
an abuse of powers never seen before or since
An arbitrary power of eviction
not always based in law
exercised by those in his stead
compassion and empathy were alien to them
A mixed view from the modern times
of what some term a drugs baron
Others, one who put the island into modern times
Money talks, even to this day
The mill
Moved by the wind or the flowing of water
Grinding of corn, after dark
A meeting place for many in days long ago
None of them left, but in ruins or display
The water still flows, but passes them by
even restored, their wheels stand still
Not now do the villagers need their grinding done here
Far off machines supply all that they need
Only approved would they be allowed
If not, their stones to be broken
What more, the distilling of spirits
The water of life, from the black pot
Suddenly illegal, well, who is to stop
The still by the stream
In the back of the house
Don't breathe one word
Grinding of corn, after dark
A meeting place for many in days long ago
None of them left, but in ruins or display
The water still flows, but passes them by
even restored, their wheels stand still
Not now do the villagers need their grinding done here
Far off machines supply all that they need
Only approved would they be allowed
If not, their stones to be broken
What more, the distilling of spirits
The water of life, from the black pot
Suddenly illegal, well, who is to stop
The still by the stream
In the back of the house
Don't breathe one word
The storm
Dark grey and ominous, scudding by low
Sun breaking through, blinding brightness
Parallel lines streaking southwest
Pockmarking the water, running with tide
High in the sky towering tall
Deep freeze above, chilly below
A puddle now forms, where the drain is blocked
The pavement is washed, by each passing motorist
Tide rising high, through sun and moon opposing
Wind rising too, the equinox past
Angry white riders, rearing up tall
Crashing in fury, augmented by wind
The watery road is closed, as the spume flies
Tied up by the pierhead, lights dimmed
Wind rising higher, beyond Beaufort's scale
Soon triple digits, even in imperial
Stones, pebbles, spray, clatter from shore
The walls resonate with the onslaught
Are they still safe, will they keep us
No
Fleeing the elements into the darkness
From which they will never emerge
Sweet and salt water combine
And swept off to oblivion, five they were
That was a bad one, thank heavens it's daylight
My roof's gone, the barn's a wreck
Trees down, power is off
That's nothing.
Where are the five?
Sun breaking through, blinding brightness
Parallel lines streaking southwest
Pockmarking the water, running with tide
High in the sky towering tall
Deep freeze above, chilly below
A puddle now forms, where the drain is blocked
The pavement is washed, by each passing motorist
Tide rising high, through sun and moon opposing
Wind rising too, the equinox past
Angry white riders, rearing up tall
Crashing in fury, augmented by wind
The watery road is closed, as the spume flies
Tied up by the pierhead, lights dimmed
Wind rising higher, beyond Beaufort's scale
Soon triple digits, even in imperial
Stones, pebbles, spray, clatter from shore
The walls resonate with the onslaught
Are they still safe, will they keep us
No
Fleeing the elements into the darkness
From which they will never emerge
Sweet and salt water combine
And swept off to oblivion, five they were
That was a bad one, thank heavens it's daylight
My roof's gone, the barn's a wreck
Trees down, power is off
That's nothing.
Where are the five?
Three dozen their number
Long reach the arms of the sea
North from the channel off the isle of the mists
High rise the mountains
As they impotently block passage
Reach to the sky in vertiginous heights
Grey in the clouds, grey the rocks strewn
Brown in heather tumbling down
to a narrow green strip by the water
Three dozen their number, now only two
A ruinous house, the outline of walls
The poorest of ground, in strips parallel
Draining the bogland for crops
Fishing the waters to feed the mouths
Rearing some cattle for milk at the hearth
Three dozen their number, now only two
Where the others go to?
Look for them northward, on divided land
demonstrating the asymptote
the more you divide, the lesser you get
until you're near nothing, in all possible respects
Another sea arm, do not breathe in
You won't fit in your strip of land
You'll be wider than that
Three dozen their number, now only two
Whilst thirty-four cram onto alien shores
And two come and go
Their land went to sheep
But even that was not enough
And the stag now roars his lust
Whilst being chased, shot and gutted - for fun
Three dozen townships teetering
on the edge of existence
on the edge of the sea
pushed to extinction for the greed of another
Napoleon's defeat heralded their demise
Peace took their livelihood
An end to subsistence
An end to life, more than through war
What have we now, in the derelict corner?
A rich man's playground
A rich man's money press
Soon churning out power.
Three dozen their number
Now only two
North from the channel off the isle of the mists
High rise the mountains
As they impotently block passage
Reach to the sky in vertiginous heights
Grey in the clouds, grey the rocks strewn
Brown in heather tumbling down
to a narrow green strip by the water
Three dozen their number, now only two
A ruinous house, the outline of walls
The poorest of ground, in strips parallel
Draining the bogland for crops
Fishing the waters to feed the mouths
Rearing some cattle for milk at the hearth
Three dozen their number, now only two
Where the others go to?
Look for them northward, on divided land
demonstrating the asymptote
the more you divide, the lesser you get
until you're near nothing, in all possible respects
Another sea arm, do not breathe in
You won't fit in your strip of land
You'll be wider than that
Three dozen their number, now only two
Whilst thirty-four cram onto alien shores
And two come and go
Their land went to sheep
But even that was not enough
And the stag now roars his lust
Whilst being chased, shot and gutted - for fun
Three dozen townships teetering
on the edge of existence
on the edge of the sea
pushed to extinction for the greed of another
Napoleon's defeat heralded their demise
Peace took their livelihood
An end to subsistence
An end to life, more than through war
What have we now, in the derelict corner?
A rich man's playground
A rich man's money press
Soon churning out power.
Three dozen their number
Now only two
A walk in the moor
Overcast skies threatening rain
The long line of water dully reflects
the little hamlet on the far bank
Vehicles turn the distant corner
out of sight
The paved roadway dips then rises
Passes the gateway to lose its tarmac
The first lake looms up below
Rocks and debris litter the track
Floodwater impedes progress
Where's the road, where is the moor
Spaghnum between the wheelruts
A deep channel fails to drain from the edge
A fleece and some horns, a skull
In front of a second gate, abandon all hope
The rise ahead reveals a lake, another lake, another lake
Where can we pass - it's a narrow causeway
Distant hills reflect in the water
Doom-laden skies glower to the south
Battleship grey is the surface
A final gate, and now find your own way
Watch you step observe the plantlife
Here you can stand, there is a bottomless lake
Shrouded by virulently green watercress
Beware of the peathags, do not be hasty
One wrong move and you may not be found
Until the next spring - or next century
Feel safe on the heather, hug the contourline
Skirt the bulrushes, circle the lochan
The valley opens out, to the left lies the township
The mountains now close, blocking out the light
Guarding the homesteads, three dozen empty
Lining the shores, now home to the deer
The crossroads is reached, the light starts to fade
The fjord looms ahead, leading out to the sea
Complete, soundless silence
But in safety, back on the road
The long line of water dully reflects
the little hamlet on the far bank
Vehicles turn the distant corner
out of sight
The paved roadway dips then rises
Passes the gateway to lose its tarmac
The first lake looms up below
Rocks and debris litter the track
Floodwater impedes progress
Where's the road, where is the moor
Spaghnum between the wheelruts
A deep channel fails to drain from the edge
A fleece and some horns, a skull
In front of a second gate, abandon all hope
The rise ahead reveals a lake, another lake, another lake
Where can we pass - it's a narrow causeway
Distant hills reflect in the water
Doom-laden skies glower to the south
Battleship grey is the surface
A final gate, and now find your own way
Watch you step observe the plantlife
Here you can stand, there is a bottomless lake
Shrouded by virulently green watercress
Beware of the peathags, do not be hasty
One wrong move and you may not be found
Until the next spring - or next century
Feel safe on the heather, hug the contourline
Skirt the bulrushes, circle the lochan
The valley opens out, to the left lies the township
The mountains now close, blocking out the light
Guarding the homesteads, three dozen empty
Lining the shores, now home to the deer
The crossroads is reached, the light starts to fade
The fjord looms ahead, leading out to the sea
Complete, soundless silence
But in safety, back on the road
The far north
Looking out to sea, distant mountains looming
Rolling in from far away, long dark swells
Born of distant winds and currents
Immutable yet ever changing
A demure chapel, long since out of use
A place of devotion, for those no longer there
Once in summer, they would flock there
With their flock of beasts to tend
Rows of lowly houses strung out side by side
Strips of narrow land beyond
Stretching for a mile towards the shore
Where all ends on a precipitate cliff
Sand swirls on the currents
whether in the air or in the sea
Changing coastlines that impercetably crumble
Only the brick tower remains, a tall beacon
The ancient rocks, dating back to earth's beginning
Root the soil, thin and meagre
Where little grows, worthy of mention
Only a sea of flowers, next to the ever-moving sea
Journey's end's beyond the gate
A rock is all that will remain
As tangible reminder of
Those whose footsteps have long faded
Rolling in from far away, long dark swells
Born of distant winds and currents
Immutable yet ever changing
A demure chapel, long since out of use
A place of devotion, for those no longer there
Once in summer, they would flock there
With their flock of beasts to tend
Rows of lowly houses strung out side by side
Strips of narrow land beyond
Stretching for a mile towards the shore
Where all ends on a precipitate cliff
Sand swirls on the currents
whether in the air or in the sea
Changing coastlines that impercetably crumble
Only the brick tower remains, a tall beacon
The ancient rocks, dating back to earth's beginning
Root the soil, thin and meagre
Where little grows, worthy of mention
Only a sea of flowers, next to the ever-moving sea
Journey's end's beyond the gate
A rock is all that will remain
As tangible reminder of
Those whose footsteps have long faded
Autumn
The golden light of autumn
streams in from the west
puffballs of clouds
sometimes drops of rain
The lanterns of red fuchsia
gently sway in the cool breeze
cripsed leaves float from the sycamore
as autumn closes summer away
The watchers stand reflected
in the mirror of the sea
A beacon to the east
looking out for those seeking guidance
Soon the evenings will have no sun
Orion marching up the nighttime sky
Fierce winds blowing in the winter
Gentle snowflakes on cold solstice air
streams in from the west
puffballs of clouds
sometimes drops of rain
The lanterns of red fuchsia
gently sway in the cool breeze
cripsed leaves float from the sycamore
as autumn closes summer away
The watchers stand reflected
in the mirror of the sea
A beacon to the east
looking out for those seeking guidance
Soon the evenings will have no sun
Orion marching up the nighttime sky
Fierce winds blowing in the winter
Gentle snowflakes on cold solstice air
Your country needs YOU
Come and join us, your country needs you
The old country needs you, come on and go
The Hun is afoot, he'll crush us all
Don't, and you're a coward, here's your white feather
Jump on the train, here is a corner
Have a fag, we'll be in France soon
March down the cobbled roads, the guns are calling
Here is your trench and here is your mud
Go on your ship and join the navy
Oh, you're now a soldier and not a sailor
Missed the train out of Antwerp
Missed the rest of the war interned in Holland
Sailing the seven seas, curse those U-boats
Dodge the torpedoes, strafe the subs
Lest they strafe you or leave you to drown
Better still Jutland, and knock Jerry for six
No volunteers left, not wanting, or all dead?
Draft them in, the dodgers, the malingerers
Push them to Haig's mincers, never mind they be ill
Never mind the trauma, won't go? Shot at dawn.
Givency, Somme, Passchendaele, add some more names
The glory is mud, the terror, the death
Torn to pieces, ripped to smithereens
Over the top, boys, hang in the barbed wire
What's the point, nothing is shifting
Jerry's bled white and so are we
Strategy's to pot, what's that, intelligence?
Throw out some chlorine, damn the wind's turned right round
November eleventh, the eleventh hour
Guns fall silent, the shooting has stopped
The point of it all?
You tell me, I don't goddamn know
The old country needs you, come on and go
The Hun is afoot, he'll crush us all
Don't, and you're a coward, here's your white feather
Jump on the train, here is a corner
Have a fag, we'll be in France soon
March down the cobbled roads, the guns are calling
Here is your trench and here is your mud
Go on your ship and join the navy
Oh, you're now a soldier and not a sailor
Missed the train out of Antwerp
Missed the rest of the war interned in Holland
Sailing the seven seas, curse those U-boats
Dodge the torpedoes, strafe the subs
Lest they strafe you or leave you to drown
Better still Jutland, and knock Jerry for six
No volunteers left, not wanting, or all dead?
Draft them in, the dodgers, the malingerers
Push them to Haig's mincers, never mind they be ill
Never mind the trauma, won't go? Shot at dawn.
Givency, Somme, Passchendaele, add some more names
The glory is mud, the terror, the death
Torn to pieces, ripped to smithereens
Over the top, boys, hang in the barbed wire
What's the point, nothing is shifting
Jerry's bled white and so are we
Strategy's to pot, what's that, intelligence?
Throw out some chlorine, damn the wind's turned right round
November eleventh, the eleventh hour
Guns fall silent, the shooting has stopped
The point of it all?
You tell me, I don't goddamn know
The bell tolls
The bell tolls
Hauntingly over the dark moving plain
Fast moving currents of air
and of water
Smash through the doors, flooding
The bell tolls
Its call answered from all corners, echoed
Driven ashore, the boat is stuck fast
The men taken off, on the edge
Taken to safety - the wind still howls
The bell tolls
An alarm call to all
The low tide at high tide level
The barriers stand, but what will hold
Force 12 at springtide flood
The bell tolls
Over torrents of water, flooding
Crumbling barriers, sweeping away all
Islands retaken, the sea reconquers
Lost for centuries, it reclaims within hours
The bell tolls
As dawn breaks, over a sea of death
Houses afloat, byres adrift
Roads washed away, the railway torn up
The tide has turned, but the water remains
The bells ring out their peal, joyously so
The barriers gleam white
Blocking river from the sea, deprived of its spoils
Peace for our time
Can we withstand?
The emigrant ship
Wide open ocean, headed southwest
Morning is breaking, all is set fair
Compass is pointing, but not the right way
From points in the east they have all come
Breakfast time comes, but the water is salt
A rock in the bottom, now a bottomless ship
Going back makes a right-angled turn
From east - now down
A new beginning from a stifling stranglehold
Young, old, and all, for reasons too old
A man and a cross, an onion-domed palace
Flocked to the northland, to now make the west
What's left is in boats, drifting northeast
Away from the new life, but for now still in life
Not all will reach salvation
As their coracles drift on the currents
A fishing boat here, another one there
Help is at hand, and terra firma beckons
An island and town, and a gravestone by a wall
All went for the new life, some do yet gain it
One boats drifts northeast, past the isle of the sheep
past the line of long sun, into the great cold
Never seen again in this life
Lessons were taught, but were they learned?
TITANIC
Morning is breaking, all is set fair
Compass is pointing, but not the right way
From points in the east they have all come
Breakfast time comes, but the water is salt
A rock in the bottom, now a bottomless ship
Going back makes a right-angled turn
From east - now down
A new beginning from a stifling stranglehold
Young, old, and all, for reasons too old
A man and a cross, an onion-domed palace
Flocked to the northland, to now make the west
What's left is in boats, drifting northeast
Away from the new life, but for now still in life
Not all will reach salvation
As their coracles drift on the currents
A fishing boat here, another one there
Help is at hand, and terra firma beckons
An island and town, and a gravestone by a wall
All went for the new life, some do yet gain it
One boats drifts northeast, past the isle of the sheep
past the line of long sun, into the great cold
Never seen again in this life
Lessons were taught, but were they learned?
TITANIC
Iolaire
Frantic beat the hooves down the road to the coast
Low sweeps the beam of the lighthouse over the waves
High rises the swell to crash on the beasts
Not lit, not shown up, lurking under sea
High fly the rockets but two hours past midnight
Hidden from view, beyond the glance of the prism
Mistaken for feasting, but no less the opposite
There's only one rope and too many waves
Boyling on the rocks, beyond the reach of succour
Carried ashore, but bereft of all life
Spared years of carnage, taken at the step of the year
Dawn breaks cold and cruel, one up the mast
Lived at the shore, returned on the strand
Returned in death to the isle of their birth
The teapot stands cold, the bed unslept in
Two hundred and five, sixty not found.
Low sweeps the beam of the lighthouse over the waves
High rises the swell to crash on the beasts
Not lit, not shown up, lurking under sea
High fly the rockets but two hours past midnight
Hidden from view, beyond the glance of the prism
Mistaken for feasting, but no less the opposite
There's only one rope and too many waves
Boyling on the rocks, beyond the reach of succour
Carried ashore, but bereft of all life
Spared years of carnage, taken at the step of the year
Dawn breaks cold and cruel, one up the mast
Lived at the shore, returned on the strand
Returned in death to the isle of their birth
The teapot stands cold, the bed unslept in
Two hundred and five, sixty not found.
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