Sleeping beauty

rumours fly from the peaks of mount Bidean nam Bian

from the high moors and the shores of lochs Tummel and Tay

the human spirit but sleeps

a deep silent slumber in a bed of lichen and lore

his life not stolen by the raven to return nevermore

He needs just a small kiss from his beloved truth

I raise my glass not to death but life

to days filled with gratitude and wonder

to dark nights of silence, love and laughter

then to watch a crystal dawn

as truth rises from the north west south-eastern

the allround corners of our minds

she draws strength from these long dead volcanoes

that now shoot rainbows built from wild imaginings

and her lover waits…

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Website Built with

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: