Late evening by the Loch
Before me lies such a canvas divine
that surely must I, my heathen soul doubt
and see as some great Architect’s design
this place that makes my Poet’s heart shout.
Spread before me lies a liquid gloss sheet
blue black with sapphire droplets of star flash,
snug with shadowy dark leaves that then meet
in the sky a sepia summer moon splash.
Over yonder glints a croft’s amber light
swaying to a lone piper’s mournful keen,
there to honour the sultry Highland night
that’s by darkness still a beauty serene.
Lake edge water, toys sand with kitten laps
within the solemn stillness of approaching sleep,
while heady floral scent around me wraps
and a voice whispers a part of you we’ll keep.