A balmy breeze arrives to bring
the subtle scent of flowering ling.
From heather nests the red grouse shout
their rapid cry of chout-chout-chout.
Aloft, is brightest blue and clear
and on hill slopes are grazing deer.
But this moor has an evil mind
and wicked ways it turns to find.
It summons up wildest weather.
Arctic blast and ice together
bring tumbling clouds of cumulus
to clump up as one leaden mass.
Then comes the pelt of sideways rain.
Some seconds on it's calm again.
A balmy breeze arrives to bring
the subtle scent of flowering ling.
Evening finds ascension
on a red grouse wing;
the brilliant copper sky
fades to twilight beam.
It wafts the weathered flora
of a season’s ending term,
as young skylarks soundly sleep
in the nearby bracken fern.
The purple hue glints playfully
on a steep highland muir,
with lovers lying blythesome
on the fragrant heather floor,
their drunk love on crescendo
with a piper's distant drone;
sharing peat-whisky dreams
amid the summer’s final gloam.
***********************
LOCH ALVIE
Note for clarification purposes- a loch is the Scottish equivalent of a lake.
Sedation of Loch Alvie as this winter chill descends.
Medication of the water as the ice it forms and blends.
Mirrored pine tree table-top, two red grouse gliding high.
Contemplating landing as they drop down from the sky.
No paddling in the water, loch has frozen, stiff and strong.
Red grouse standing still now,as they cackle, "somethings wrong."
The ducks have sought their shelter and the swans have all gone too.
No rippling of the water,around it's edges, frosted dew.
Associated stillness, loch engulfed in silent shroud.
Sky is bitter blue but with pleasure, looks down proud.
It stamps it's brand upon the loch, with piercing morning light.
Tartan spectrum bouncing off the ice and showing it's delight.
Church bell tolls loudly, breaks the silence in the air.
A resting place for many,tombstones glisten in the glare.
This tranquil place of peace overlooks this loch, serene.
A more peaceful place on earth, i have surely never seen.
Show me what you see each day
Through your sparkling eyes of greens and browns
Do you see the smiles, the tears and frowns
On children's faces as they play
Can you see beyond to the lilac heathers
to the mountains tied with ribbons of snow
Where the Red Grouse rest wearing rufous-brown feathers.
Tell me what you hear each day
Where life stands still in your darkness deep
Where the Waterboatman lavae sleep
Do you hear the laughter as children play
Come twilight can you hear the Nightjar call
In the heathland broken by clumps of trees
And the cattle defended by sturdy wall.
Whisper what you feel each day
As small fingers tickle do you laugh and dance
Under the stepping stones of risk and chance
Do you feel their hearts slow down from play
Can you feel the chill when the sun fades in the west
When the motion has ceased and the lands laid to rest
Don't answer these questions,I think you know best.
By Michelle Makepeace