An
Ancient
Alchemy,
Quaint combination:
Heat and water, yeast and barley.
Air.
Mountain,
Sweet and pure;
Warm summer breeze
Caressing barley on the plain.
Fresh
Water,
Crystal clear.
Wild and wilful burn
Lively rushing from the mountain.
Peat.
Ancient,
Rich the reek,
Rising pungent smoke
That fuels the fire to dry the malt.
Bright
Catchlight.
Heart-warming
Heady taste and smell :
The landscape preserved in amber.
A
Process
So simple,
Such complex product
Of copper still and bourbon tun.
Pure
Scottish
Uisge beatha:
The Water of Life –
The essence of the Western Isles.
The smiling loch gives a welcome
Along with the vigorous pine,
Time to recharge the soul
And smell the coffee on the Isle of Skye.
Misty mountains of mystery
Are a drug with a natural high,
And offer more to discover
Sipping coffee on the Isle of Skye.
The landscape changes each minute
As clouds give way to the shine,
As the sun whispers the invite
Smell the coffee on the Isle of Skye.
White washed homes contrast colour
Of illuminous mountain sides,
That greet the Cali ferries,
And bring life to the Isle of Skye.
You can almost touch the mountains
As you're touched by the Western Isles,
Three dimensions experienced, while
Sipping coffee on the Isle of Skye.
But the likeness of God in nature
Stirs the fourth dimension inside,
Marries the natural and spiritual, while
Smelling the coffee on the Isle of Skye.
Chaos theory must answer
To the Western Island design,
A place too wonderful for me
While smelling coffee on the Isle of Skye.
The Gaelic heart of Scotland
Melts into the core of mine,
As the wide-eyed little boy
Smells the coffee on the Isle of Sky.
The early dawn on the Western Isles allures me to awaken early
A pinky red kaleidoscope attracts me through louvered panels
Towards the windows I walk as if taking steps on a lava ladder
Slowly my open eyes are met with the most beautiful vista
Am Binnean Dearg, the Red Cuillin, appears as if erupting
The suns morning crescent peeks as if in slow motion rise
Pinked clouds in drift capture and enhance through their vapours
Solitude abounds in this most remote of places on Skye
I sit in trance and marvel at the changing as the hours pass
There's love in my eyes seeing what I see for our tomorrows and eternity
The morning now grows into the day as pink pastel blooms fade
Crisp azures now caress and absorb the morns beauty
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