The grey skies shift to blue, and now a breeze
is heralding a longed-for transformation.
With rainbow colours Mother Earth is blessed
and all the islands of the west caressed, reborn.
Sweet Summer knows no storm.
Categories:
hebridean, summer,
Form: Rhyme
Perfectly formed in a challenging terrain,
low and squat they lie and ever ready
to shrug off Hebridean wind and rain,
with weathered roofs and walls rock steady.
In days of yore, a refuge from the storm,
now picturesque, and just a bit forlorn.
Categories:
hebridean, home,
Form: Rhyme
Perfectly formed in a challenging terrain,
low and squat they lie and ever-ready
to shrug off Hebridean wind and rain
with weathered roofs and walls rock-steady.
In days of yore, a refuge from the storm,
now picturesque, and just a bit forlorn.
Categories:
hebridean, change, weather,
Form: Rhyme
The wind is moaning,
mist forlorn and low.
The hills are softly sketched
in shades of monochrome.
The village blinks awake
from Sabbath slumber.
A bleating lamb is huddled
at the field's edge, uncomprehending,
it wonders at its birthright.
No silver light is falling from the sky
to ease this cloak of grey,
and yet, on such a bleak, dreich
Hebridean dawn,
A sound to cheer,
delight, surprise,
Just as the rain is falling, falling,
I hear a cuckoo - calling, calling.
Categories:
hebridean, bird, weather,
Form: Free verse
With your waters so blue,
And your sands a crisp white,
I had never expected,
Quite a delight,
I had come from the mainland,
To this distant isle,
A Hebridean beauty,
A trip so worthwhile,
St Columba had come,
And here he would stay,
He made it the isle,
For the Christians to pray,
The Abbey was built,
And our Kings buried here,
A place full of worship,
From far and from near,
And right to this day,
Christians cross to this isle,
St Columbas 'Iona',
A place we can smile.
Categories:
hebridean, faith, nature, peace,
Form: Rhyme