Memories
Memories
White mist on a mountain,
grey mist on the sea.
Vapours of the time-mist
are the men I long to see.
Just the knowing of them
made a better man of me.
Spring is in my song today,
fields beside the sea.
Robin, from the tractor,
waves a hand at me.
Gulls, churning like a sea-wake,
follow on the plough.
Donald, trudging homewards,
after milking of the cow.
Peter, in the neap field,
leans upon the hoe,
dreaming of a girl he loved
many years ago.
Geordie’s in the seiner,
butting up the bay,
heading for the haddie grounds
over Orkney way.
Summer feeds the fields of hay
moist winds from the west.
God is in a summer day,
men and land are blessed.
Comes along a bonnie lass,
children at her knee,
breathing nectar in the glass,
giving love to me.
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