The title has been taken by kind permission of Valsa George’s “Sweet Memories” for which I thank and dedicate my poem to Valsa George for her friendship.
We were lying on the sand,
Listening to the soft murmur
Of short and light cool waves.
Above us, a red octagonal sun umbrella
Gave us the much-desired rest.
Far away a bunch of guillemots
Cross swiftly across the tranquil bay
To rest near a sturdy lighthouse.
Whilst puffins nest in burrows in the cliffs.
My wife noted the activity of birds
As some flew around the lighthouse.
She wanted to go and investigate
But it was too hot to trek up the cliff.
We’ll go at sunset, darling, I coaxed her.
The sea will be purplish red
Whilst boats began their trip home,
Their sails so crimson as the sun begins to set.
So, we packed all into our SUV,
And slowly wound our way
Amongst the thriving fields.
In our small cottage we had some tasty fare
And after a shower returned to bed.
Then that nightfall we returned to the lighthouse.
Oh, what a sight we enjoyed.
Till late at night, we admired the vista.
How happy and elated we were as we headed home.
It was the only fine day during a week
near Ullapool; a chance to launch for a sail.
Out off the Summer Isles a breeze we did seek,
being relieved there was no longer a gale.
Then half a mile to the north a splash we saw.
Was it? Might it be? Could one be found right here?
Then up came a spout and we were filled with awe.
Another one confirmed that it might come near.
We looked at each other – should we be afraid?
Around us there were guillemots, razor bills
and puffins, yet not one of them seemed dismayed,
so we relaxed and anticipated thrills.
So towards us it swam, breaking the surface,
spouting again, till it was just over there,
some sixty feet distant. No longer nervous
we reckoned its length to our boat did compare.
And so it passed south as we were held in wonder.
Ashore we determined the species of whale
was a minke, sure it could not be under
sixteen feet. I recount this memorable tale.
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