Long Ago, Memories of a Cold Winter Night Conversation

Long Ago, Memories Of A Cold Winter Night Conversation (Narrative/Rhyme) Hebridean isles, once sang to me in a dream, She her beautiful hair silky, so very long There rests magnificent treasure few ever find A good poet would use it to create a song Not I said lonely starved mouse in the corner My heart desires warmth and lots of red-wine and cheese Friend, quiet I let you live so I am not alone Good sir, be quick and pour us more wine if you please! What? You plead being tired, so angry at me Alas! Dare you refuse your master to now serve It is I that keeps fireplace jolly and roaring I have noticed lately you have a lot of nerve You have no gratitude, do I not share my ink You my good sir, shock me with such an attitude Do I not share with you my most expensive wine You raise conceit to a much higher altitude! Yes, I resent that insolent snide little smirk Your demeanor has taken on an angry voice It is as if, you are no longer my good friend Know you not, a poet 'tis by Fate- not by choice I will pen some verses of your heroic stand Alright, stop weeping, my ink and paper will soak Methinks you have had far too much wine, go to sleep Tomorrow, we see Hebridean isles, no joke. Does not such jubilant news cheer your little heart Friend, did I ever tell you my angel lives there Confide I this with you because you are a pal My love, 'tis she with gentle eyes, long silky hair. Robert J. Lindley, January 4th, 1972 Narrative/Rhyme... Old Note: Jan 4th 1972 I once lived in an old and sad lonely house My new friend was an exceptional little mouse I remember he could sing the sad blues and dance I now look back, was it a blessing or mere chance? New Note: Poem was written as an imaginative piece to explore the real world experiences of those people that have grown old, outlived so many and experience the lonely life that remains. Such a person, a friend I knew back then- and yes he was a writer, he was a great story teller. Sadly at age 89 he passed away. I was away out of state when he died. When I used to see him and ask how he was doing he would say- : " Just fine young lad- me and my mouse are always living it up." That gave me the idea about the conversation with the friendly but sometimes uppity little mouse. (1.) "" Hebridean isles"" Hebrides From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia The Inner and Outer Hebrides The Hebrides (/'h?br?di?z/; Scottish Gaelic: Innse Gall, pronounced ['i??? 'kaul??]; Old Norse: Suðreyjar, "southern isles") are a Scottish archipelago off the west coast of the Scottish mainland. The islands fall into two main groups, based on their proximity to the mainland: the Inner and Outer Hebrides. These islands have a long history of occupation (dating back to the Mesolithic period), and the culture of the inhabitants has been successively influenced by the cultures of Celtic-speaking, Norse-speaking, and English-speaking peoples. This diversity is reflected in the various names given to the islands, which are derived from the different languages that have been spoken there at various points in their history. The Hebrides are where much of Scottish Gaelic literature and Gaelic music has historically originated. Today, the economy of the islands is dependent on crofting, fishing, tourism, the oil industry, and renewable energy. The Hebrides have less biodiversity than mainland Scotland, but a significant number of seals and seabirds. The islands have a combined area of approximately 7,200 square kilometres (2,800 sq mi), and, as of 2011, a combined population of around 45,000.[1]