Month: March 2019

In the presence of the strong hill hovering
over my shoulder I am reminded of the size
of everything and the way of the wave on the shore.

I saw her all those years ago
beside the rolling shore,
I came to take her to the edge
to see the islands that I saw
crouching in the setting sun
on horizon’s lonesome moor.

This whisky
all the thirst I know,
heavy it weighs
on my eyelids,
they close to a weary,
welcome sleep.

We are all here,
everyone of us –
all different
all the same
all together.

He sings with a sure voice
that he is unsure of;
he can believe in other voices
but not always in his own.

Everybody finds somebody
to love;
everybody finds somebody
to love them.

She is a friend of mine, a dear heart,
a forager among the ruins of wisdom,
among the secrets of the ages;
she holds the place for those
who wonder at the stars.

In the gowns of the righteous
she holds court on the hillside
and calls with a single voice
in the darkness and carries
her own lantern of light.

And the trees she has planted
stand above the stretch of peninsula,
the promise of harvest broken
but still she holds this place dear
and will not allow ill of it to be spoken.

From the fields of the lowlands
to the steep country, rugged and weary,
she doesn’t look back, makes no complaint,
forges a haven worthy of the land
and love and the man.