Sophia 2019

It was your birthday
a month ago
the second one
outwith your life

The first full year
you were no longer there
as your memory
lightens up our days

The Window on the West
is empty now
the roads are quiet
no dancing feet

The machair is lifeless
in austere winter colours
no footsteps
on its bouncy grass

We remember your voice
we remember the joy
with which you met life
and all its challenges

She who knows all
carries your memory
carries your character
and is still waiting

Waiting for the day
when your smile
will come striding
down the path

To collect
your faithful companion
of latter years
to go across the Rainbow Bridge

New Year's Eve 2019

The last day of the year has arrived. The last day of the decade in fact. It's been a decade to remember, and in other respects not worth remembering. None of us are the way we were in 2010. Many people have gone on ahead over the past decade, and I profoundly miss quite a few of them. Others have just plain left my life, as they had to get on with theirs. When we step across the boundary at the next midnight, we'll enter the 2020s. I'm apprehensive about the new year, even more so about the decade ahead. However, there is nothing for it but to step up to meet and face the challenge, and make the best of it. In the process, the time has also come to leave behind what has to be left behind, if it no longer serves a constructive purpose in life. If still around, none of us will be the way we are now come 2030.

I hope 2020 will be a good year for all.
I hope all will be kept safe, healthy and happy.
I hope everybody's wishes will come true,
I hope that burdens will be taken away from those who suffer with them.


Christmas Eve 2019

From the dark
of the distant past
a bell tolls
from faraway

Joined by others
ringing out
from down below
from near and far

The lights are dimmed
the music muted
speech demure
this December night

The old organ plays
the well-known tunes
as sung
by ageing voices

The story replays
as in so many years
gone by since then
Christ is born


Eayst

It's about sending the moon to protect and guide a loved one far away. On this night of such a glorious full moon, how could I not share it?

Sophia's words accompanying her recording of the song Eayst (Moon), partly sung in Manx Gaelic.

I keep coming back to it. Because, reading it properly this evening, it haunts me. I'd like to believe that Sophia sends the moon to protect and guide us, far away from her now. The image that goes with her Soundcoud profile shows her in 2013, with a very young Torran on her arm. I know Torran is very lovingly taken care of now, until the time comes that she will be collected by Sophia to cross the Rainbow Bridge. And they'll be reunited, never to be separated again.

Thinking of Sophia

In among the storm that is raging in my life at the moment, I sometimes spend a few minutes listening to recordings of Sophia's voice. The sadness remains, counterbalanced by memories of one of the most remarkable characters I've yet met. I can only just about look at the images of her cat, the faithful companion she left behind. Sophia never had children, a point of regret and pain for her. After she passed 50, cats became her children. I'm told that for months after Sophia died, cats would congregate by her house in Berneray, waiting to be fed. I've written it many times, I'll always think of Sophia in the evening light, opening her door to me with that serene smile, which would slowly fade into the darkness as light faded from the Window on the West. I'm pleased she doesn't appear to have suffered at the end.

December '19

I know you're far away now
smiling among the stars
singing on the waves
dancing on a distant shore

You fell asleep
and drifted off
beyond this life
on the boat home

She who knew all
who had been with you
all those seasons
knew you'd gone forever

At the Window on the West
I stand and gaze at the setting sun
I hear you singing of the moon
and see your serene smile

You'll guide me further on
although we didn't meet again
with others that went on ahead
down this rocky road of life

Fourteen years

All those years ago
I took you
from the memorial
by the coast

Along the coast
by the old farm
past your old home
to your home of now many years

Not so many years ago
I walked with you
along the shore
from the old village

To remember
those who'd gone on ahead
that day,
a full score years before

Now just maybe
a few dozen yards
to where the tree
marked the spot

Where you'd take
young ones
a few decades
previous

The years have taken
their toll
the spirit stays strong
but the years go on

A year on

A year ago
as that darkening month
wound to a windlashed
close

Friends from all over
headed west over sea,
if the wind did allow,
to remember

In writing, song and poetry
your music, dance and laughter
From the other land by the sea
where you first saw life

We read profound words
in knowing that you live on
not in a physical sense
but in memory

It has been many a year
since we last saw each other
in a crowded bar
in a darkened home

Others met you since
and shared, unwittingly,
the same experience
unforgettable, and profound

As winter winds lash
and the sun barely shines
Your smile, music and memories
remain with me

She that knows all
waits still
in the Window on the West
for the day when you return

Unanswered

So many questions
left unanswered
but that is fine
I'll never know

I'm happy
to have known you
I'm wistful
for what did not happen for you

The wishes
left unfulfilled
the long nights
of what might have been

I'm happy you were happy
with cats, and songs and words
cats of yesteryear
you have now been reunited with

What happened to Torran
we all know
what happened to Faili
I may never know

In the sunshine you lived
livening up the afternoons
for those listening
on An Radio 105

You left us
in peace
quietly
in the night

So many questions
left unanswered
swim strong, mermaid
I can still hear your voice

Sophia - a year on

A year ago today (November 6th), I was made aware of the death of a friend, Sophia Dale. She was two years younger than myself, and we had met in March and April 2013 in Tigharry and Lochmaddy in North Uist. I was amazed at the strength of emotion that her passing evoked in me, particularly bearing in mind that I had not seen her for more than six years. Sophia was a very unique personality, a bright light that did attract me. After talking on-line for a couple of weeks, we decided to meet in North Uist. We hit it off and became close, Sophia being one of those people I found it easy to open up to - and reciprocally. She made me aware of her depressive illness, and how she coped with that: by going for a stomp on the beach and the machair each day. Sophia loved music and singing, it was her life. She loved to dance along the roads, singing to the skies and the birds. Her constant companion since the autumn of 2012 was her little black cat Torran. Sophia acquired another black one whilst in Tigharry, which she called Faili. It was pretty feral, but it took to Sophia. I don't know what happened to Faili when she moved to Berneray. I last met Sophia in April 2013 in Lochmaddy. Circumstances meant I was unable to keep in touch beyond 2014.

Then came the message on the Berneray page that Sophia had been found dead in her home. Her cat Torran was found a few days later, distraught. It was taken in by one of Sophia's close friends, and is now quite happy and settled in her new forever home. But she's still wondering, I'm sure, what had happened to her guardian. She's still expecting her tall, lanky form to come striding up the path to take her home. Which she will do, one day.

A lovely commemorative event was organised for Sophia on December 1st last year. Her family had come over from her native Australia, and took an active part in the church service and ceilidh afterwards. Sophia had been cremated, and part of her ashes were scattered on her beloved machair in Berneray. The rest was scattered into the sea at her hometown in Australia.

Swim strong, mermaid. I know you're out there, with Torran. I still hear your voice, not just from recordings. I still see your face, and not just from photographs.

You're with us, with me, forever, wherever we all go.

In memoriam - one year on

Six years ago
Only three brief evenings
I was always early
as you gently chided me

I came in from the
sunsplashed March evenings
the sun soon dipping
towards the western horizon

We chatted away
as you faded into darkness
only that one lamp lit
just for me

You reached out to me
and touched me gently
not physically
but spiritually

I knew your pain
what could have been
those years before
a promise left unfulfilled

The beach and the machair
were your release and your relief
you touched the rocks and stones
to touch mother earth

Dancing the empty roads
the endless machairs
singing the curving strands
of Uibhist bho Thuath

I could not leave you
that final night
the wrench was
almost physicaly painful

I'll never forget
that serene wistful smile
greeting me
at your little house's door

Or that final good-bye
a month later
in the House of Music
I could not let go

I did let go
and we each went our way
I'm glad you were happy
before you left this life

I know little Torran
is happy in her new forever home
still waiting
for you to come to collect her

You were taken back
to where you last lived
You were taken back
to where you first lived

But all who remember you
All who met you and loved you
Carry you with us forever
so you are not really gone


Short story XXVI

The two lighthouses winked out their warnings. Their characters were not synchronous, but every few minutes, their signals coincided. The skies above were ink black, but a veil of innumerable stars stretched from horizon to horizon. A gentle swell ran ashore, culminating in an almost apologetic 'plop' as each wave ran out onto the sand. Shells were briefly carried up, but then rapidly streamed down with the returning tide. No wind blew that night. The marram grass in the dunes stood still, not a blade bent in the cold night air. The birds of the sea were quiet. To the southeast, low over the tops of the dunes lining the beach, Orion's belt rose into the sky, followed by the stars of the winter night. When Sirius appeared, the scene was set. A shadow appeared on the rim of the dunes.

Well past midnight. The streetlights had long since gone off, and only the odd light shone from some of the houses. Each stood alone in its own patch of land, never far from the rocky shore. The sea lapped ashore, but there was no discernible sound. Sheep lay asleep, some in the tarmac of the roadway, as if to absorb some latent warmth. The day had been sunny, but only for a few hours, and had long given way to the night. Stars winked over the water to the east, and outlined the bulk of low hills in the background. A lonely car slowly purred its way through the township, presently pulling up outside one of the houses. The two occupants alighted, slammed the doors shut and walked up to a house. Their voices carried on the still night air, before they disappeared inside and were shut in behind a door. A cow lowed in the distance. Navigational beacons blinked offshore, marking the hazardous passage. The lights in one house were presently extinguished. Nearby, cats from the township prowled in the undergrowth. A shadow disappeared, as Sirius rose in the southeast.

The last light faded to the southwest, as warm airs wafted ashore. The ocean swell ran ashore, inexorably, as it had done since time immemorial, and would still be doing beyond the age of man. A sward of sand ran the length of the coast, for hundreds of miles. Groups of people sat outside, enjoying the late spring warmth, quietly enjoying a pint or a glass, munching a few bites to eat. A few intrepid souls were out in the waves, as wisps of high cloud wafted slowly by. Lights went on in the beach side cafes, and the houses beyond. The stars of the south came out as the sunlight whisked off west, with Orion's belt almost overhead, Sirius not far below. Although Sirius is the brightest star in the sky, Canopus, some way below it, is a good second. Oh, the two lighthouses would never see it. Neither would the scattered township of sheep and marram grass.

The wind started to blow, bending the blades of the marram grass towards the northeast. The swell slowly rose, until the beach was fringed with white foam. Seaweed was pushed ashore, gathering up just beyond the tideline, as the tide began to fall. Beyond the dunes, the flat lands stretched towards the hills lining the horizon. As the sun rose, bird calls punctuated the start of the winter's day. Vestiges of green remained, a memory of or promise towards summer. Dark browns and dull yellows reminded of the current season, winter. No one moved, although as the tide fell, a line of footprints began to emerge from the dunes.
The sand swirled into the dunes from the beach, whipped up by the strong winds blowing in from the ocean. The footprints were soon lost from sight, covered by seaweed, filled in by sand or washed away by the surf. Beyond the dunes, the houses stood in their scattered loneliness, almost bowed down into the winter gale. They looked out over the pristine curve of the beach, beyond which the tower of the lighthouse rose to the west, and further islands loomed on the horizon. The roads lay empty, with few venturing out. Best to hunker down, and wait for the winds to abate.

The cold wind howled in from the north, winter on its last legs, but reluctant to relinquish its hold. In frustration, it threw hailstones across the landscape. Rain lashed down, horizontally, as the wind ramped up to galeforce. Shaking the bare branches of the rowantrees, it thundered in the chimneys and whistled in the telegraph wires. The landscape was once more wiped into a curtain of grey, through which a lonely shadow appeared. It turned a corner, upon which the sun suddenly flashed through the clouds, splashing colour across the fields - but only for a moment.

With a whimper, the storm faded away and the sun finally came out. Not for long, it was westering already. The road was empty. The rowan tree did not dare stand up straight, best be prepared for the next onslaught. Some stories they have to tell, do the old rowans. You'll find them around a lot round here. Always on the windward side of a house, sheltering it from our perennial gales. Sometimes, you'll see a rowan tree near just a heap of stones, or a chimney stack. All that is left of what once was a home. The rainwater trickled down the drains on either side of the road. A car whizzed past, splashing up spray from the earlier rain. As the sun dipped towards the horizon, shadows grew long.
In the last light of the day, the wind whispered through the grass. Where previously, there had been colour, now only outlines remained. A sheep, a cow. Fence posts, sometimes leaning at precarious angles. Abandoned bath tubs and various pieces of agricultural machinery, rusting into the ground. The contours of the hills stood out darkly against the skyline. As daylight faded altogether, the wind sighed through the branches of the rowan. A shadow flitted towards the house.

The rowan's bare boughs flexed in the wind, unseen in the darkness. Stars now shone brightly overhead as the moon sank towards the western horizon. The two lighthouses blinked, every few minutes in unison as their characters coincided. Some would say that a rowan would tell stories, tales of the families that had lived their lives in the house by which it stood. And, more often than not, a family would move away. Overseas, across the oceans. The rowan would lament their departure, telling their story to the wind, its anguish at their leaving and its hope for a return. Even as the house lost its roof, its windows, its walls - the rowan would grow tall. But here, the house stands firm in the teeth of the winter storms. The rowan shelters it, and hears the stories of its people.

The door fell shut. Darkness reigned, under a myriad of stars. Nothing moved in the house. From one of the neighbouring properties, the faint sound of music rose into the night sky. Although there was no streetlighting, the path was clear to see. So often, torches and streetlamps just dazzle. The shadow disappeared down the roadway, and a profound silence ensued. The rowan shivered in the night breeze.

Canopus and Sirius rose high in the spring sky as the swell ran ashore. Music rang out from the waterside bars and restaurants, while some people cavorted in the waves at the water's edge. Although darkness had long since fallen, the warmth of the day remained. Groups of people remained outside, talking softly into the night. A shadow moved among them, unseen, unperceived. It presently disappeared towards the strand - did it go into the sea?

Was it an echo, or imagination? Lively music spilled from brightly lit windows, left open in spite of the coolness of the night. Dancers swirled around the floor to familiar strains, whilst musicians and singers took turns. The House of Music. The moon shone in the western sky, highlighting the bare branches of the rowan. As if through coincidence, one of the singers launched into a song about the moon, which would light the way. A cloud rolled across the face of the westering moon, and the music faded. Only the sound of the Atlantic surf remained, carried inland on the mild night breeze. It blew through the branches of the rowan, swaying them as if it was telling a tale. A tale of the House of Music.

Stars scattered across the heavenly dome as if painted with brush strokes. That night, it did not matter where they were viewed from, it was a dazzling display. A shooting star completed the spectacle. It was past midnight, but time was not of the essence. The waves of the ocean thundered ashore, and the nightwind rustled in the blades of grass. The light in the house went out, after a little black shadow jumped out of a window. Off for its nightly foray for rodents. Not long after, although temporally irrelevant, the door opened. For moment, the shadow stopped to look round. There would be no return. Sensing those spiritually close, even if geographically distant in many cases, it reached out. With a smile, so familiar in life, it stepped down the road, a bounce soon turning into a dance. In daylight, a broad smile would have adorned its face. In this sphere, a singing voice would have been audible. Passing through the machair, it reached the dunes, and ran down to the water's edge. It stopped, for a final pause. The smile dropped, and the music faded. The little black shadow was suddenly startled by an inexplicable, searing sense of loss. Turning round for a final time to face the dunes, the shadow bade a silent farewell to this world.

Full circle

The year's well-nigh full circle
Autumn's weighing us down once more
I have thought of you quite often
since you slipped away beyond the sea

I'm happy you were happy
doing what you did each day each week
your smile lighting up the little isle
and the beaches machair and the sea

Your voice lives on in all our minds
retained on-line for posterity
although it is stilled for good
we can remember you as if still there

You welcomed me into your home
the little cottage on the narrow road
talking into the darkness of
those cold but beautiful March nights

We shared a love of music
of the environment of these isles
a penchant for words and phrases
and for cats, black or whatever colour

Torran is still waiting, happy where she is
I know she misses you
not knowing where you went
you will meet again, one day, many moons from now

We parted after an evening of music
not knowing it was to be for good
It was touch and go - a hug and kiss
and off into the night you went

I'll always picture you 'front my mind's eye
in the sunshine of that March evening
flooding in through the Window of the West
with little Torran by your side

Swim strong, Sophia
Under the stars beyond this world
Sing on, Sophia, forever more
We'll meet again, when the time comes

Memories



Memories are evocative
Evoked by the merest hint
An image of an open fire
reminded me of you

I laid this one
the last night
I was with you
all those moons ago

The fireguard is up
and I kept it there
I felt your warmth
even after I left

I remember, once
you came to my door
but there was no place
and you went away

I sometimes listen
to your recorded voice
your beloved songs
even in Manx Gaelic

The wind whistles
it calls your name
the Atlantic thunders
laps onto the shores you walked

Eleven months ago
you swam away
under the northern stars
that had become your home

She that knows all
plays in her new forever home
awaiting your return
and come back... you will

Equinox

We've passed the equinox
the days are shorter than the nights
summer has gone
autumnal introspection is here

I see your spirit
I still hear your voice
your cat plays
you're with her still

Wherever you are
wherever your cats are
your music lives on
as does your smile

The time comes near
just six weeks from now
when the year will have
turned full circle

It was under Canopus' lamp
watched over by Orion
that you swam away
into the night

At the Window on the West
she plays, carrying your spirit
Your music lives on
in all of us

Waiting at the gate

Are you there
waiting at the gate
where time ceases
and pain blows away

You left in the night
when the cold wind called
and stars shone bright
in the distant north

The lighthouses still wink
over the empty strands
where your feet once walked
looking and finding solace

She who knows all
is waiting for you still
knowing as only they can
that you'll meet her again

Your smile remains
shining out of memories
brightly lighting up
those days years ago

Are you still there
yes
waiting at the gate
thank you for being

Seashore memories

The sea reminds me
of you
It's calling your name
the wind sighs your memory

As the sun sets
sinking into the westering sea
as the wind bends
the seashore grass

The surf thunders
where it once
offered you
solace

The waves break
on the sandy shore
the white strand
curving to infinity

The lighthouse blinks
in the far-off distance
when darkness has fallen
over the land of memories

My mind is heavy
at this midnight hour
with memory of those
who went on ahead

Gormenghast

As the nights draw in
a memory emerges
strangely enough
of Gormenghast

Your name
for the capital
of ancient
Scotland

Oh, loth you were
to leave behind
your companions
on the croft

Torran
feral Faili
Spooky the black tom
roaming your haunt

As you roamed
the towers and turrets
of teeming hordes
in Gormenghast

Little were you to know
that you'd one day leave
leaving Torran
to look for you

The Window on the West
is now empty
She's still looking
searching

Not knowing that
you're in the air
she's breathing
in every breath

Nine months

The days flow by
back and forth
like the never ending
tide

The moon through
its phases
marks time
day by week by month

Each day
the sun rises
seen or unseen
in blue or grey skies

Where Canopus
shines in summer skies
that's where you came
into this world

When Orion rose
in our winter skies
he called on you
and you swam away

Now nine months ago
you left us your music
your laughter
your dance

At the Window on the West
we watched the light fade
where your black shadow
still awaits your return

https://soundcloud.com/sophia-dale/orion1

New and old

Gentle grey clouds
drift low over
the waterside hills
a hint of sun

As July closes
and summer wears on
as the tide rises
and falls

A new creation
takes shape
on the
water's edge

The old went away
its spirit
drifted out
on the outgoing tide

Cats

Whenever I think of you
I think of cats
usually
black

Torran I met
She was distraught
when you
never came back

I don't know
what happened to
Faili after
you left Uist

Spooky
stayed behind
after
you left Tigharry

Torran will always
be at
The Window on the West
waiting for you

Your life

Darkness creeps out
from the midnight sky
as summer reaches
towards its height

Music will soon
emanate from
beside the harbour
here in Stornoway

Music was your life
The sea was your life
The sky was your life
and they remember you

The machair
whispers your name
the roads lie silent
remembering your dance

The black shadow
remembers you
and still waits
in the Window on the West

Will she yet come
striding up the path
oh she will, little one
beyond the Rainbow Bridge

You're in the light
swimming strong
your voice, your laughter
lighting up the heavens

After the solstice

Eight months have passed
since you passed
out of this life
into the great light

The solstice is gone
our light will now diminish
but yours will remain
to light up our memories

As the full light of summer
now wreaths
the empty lands
of Uist

Where beaches
and machair
the sea itself
whisper your name

Where the black shadow
looks out of
the Window on the West
still awaiting your return

Your voice remains with us
recorded for all time
Your spirit remains with us
as we remember you

Hurst

My thoughts drift south
to the old cottage
on the lonely moor
where the owls yet swoop

Long since
did the sun there set
but memories remain
of that final meeting

Looking out west
over the sweeping fells
where the pheasants strut
and the golden light lingers

You could only look then
at where you could go
just a year before
for many a mile

You drifted out of my sight
as the train pulled away
taking you unwittingly
out of my sight forever

We retraced your steps
among the ancient valleys
in that warm summer
now a decade gone

The years have marched on
don't think we'll be back there
on the lonely moor
where the owls yet swoop

Do not look back

Yes I can still see you
in the doorway of your little house
the evening sunshine
behind your welcoming smile

I still see your homestead
full of the things of your years
your little companion
as the sun set behind you

I recall the struggle
with loneliness
in amongst that
empty beauty of Uist

You came back to me tonight
a tap on the shoulder
from beyond this earthly life -
do not look back

My mind rests

My mind crosses south
beyond the confines
of the arboreal
pale light

My mind rests
among the trees
where the summer light
remembers you

My mind rests
among stars
as yet unseen
below the faithful Sirius

Canopus guides
the summer skies
where the mermaid
swims strongly

My mind rests
in the dunes
where the pines sigh
and the surf laments

The daylight lingers
in the far northwest
where age is bearing
down on you

My mind rests
at the midnight hour
but where darkness
does not fall

You remain
and always will be
in my mind in and
beyond this world

Declining years

It pains me to watch
as you move down
the path of years
rock strewn as it is

The rocks
grow bigger
as you diminish
valiantly though

The doubt
sometimes grows large
but you battle on
determined

I know
where this path
leads
and will end

I'm willing you on
for as much
as you can
as the light fades

Stumbling through darkness

Stumbling through darkness
your voice guides me
towards the door
leading into light

Happiness found you
under the pale north sky
where clouds scud along
and the sun shines bright

Your voice travels with me
a recorded memory
of companiable evenings
where the daylight faded

She's now well cared for
I know you know
the little one you took in
all those years ago now

As we carry on in life
you look on from beyond it
your smile touches me
as I find my way

Gone on ahead

Those who went on ahead
are around me tonight
I feel their presence
I feel their soul

Some long gone
others not far
beyond the door
of this life

If only
is now forgotten
their life
is within me

Their joy
their sadness
their infinity
fulfills me

I'm with those
with whom
I share
a loss

A loss of one
we both knew
some closer
some distant

I say their names
chiseled in my mind
I feel their presence
I feel their soul

Sophia (24)


I sometimes look
at the still images
of your life
in these islands

Captured forever
moments in time
of your life
among us all

The darkness has gone
the light evenings are here
you would have rejoiced
danced and sung

You swam away
at the midnight hour
as darkness
deepened

But you swam away
into the light
of eternal joy
dance and song

I know you are waiting
by the Rainbow Bridge
for little Torran
as she awaits your return

Longer days

Although the days' length extends
your days grow shorter
although manfully battling on
the fatigue creeps closer

Spring has now come
and you enjoy its light
the leaves unfolding
the flowers coming out

Green fingers feel
their way around
to pretty up
your home of long years

Many have now gone on ahead
and memories remain
not many now remain
who have shared your years

As the darkness falls
I know what will transpire
but I cannot yet let go
although I feel I must

Looking back 11 years

I watched you
drift away
out of sight
as I moved off

I was not to know
as the train
gathered speed
that we'd not meet again

As I drifted off
the mist gathered further
as it had done
for some time till then

I did not see
until 't was
perhaps
too late

Five years passed
and I alighted
onto the same
station platform

You were not there
your prediction,
unheard by me,
had come true

You remain with me
though
you're part of me
always there

Sophia (23)

Five months have passed
Six years have passed
As spring springs
and the light widens

I am reminded of you
your voice on the waves
retained for all time
under the pale sky

As the light faded
in the Window on the West
your voice reached out to me
as it yet does now

Far out now
swimming strong
your laughter rings
and your smile remains

Sophia (22)

You're far away now
as I listen to your voice
which is all that remains
of you to me

It is many a year now
since we met
in the roadside house
below the heathery hill

Your voice came to me
through the darkness
your kindness
shone through

Music was your life
creation your being
the sea your home
the open skies your soundboard

Dancing the roads
like the old dannsa rathad
singing like a songlark
your happiness remains

The Window on the West
was a window onto you
your faithful companion
always by your side

Swim strong, mermaid
you'll be waiting
when the time comes
for the black one to rejoin you

Quiet

It's quiet
this Saturday
the wind rustles
through the branches

Little moves
ashore or at sea
the clouds insouciantly
drift by overhead

The day will come
in weather fair or foul
that the silence will not
be broken again

Whether I'll be here or not
it matters not
A presence is always
missed when absent

A wave

Rolling ashore
languidly
thundering
incessantly

A wave
born of
distant storms
long since gone

Under the pale
northern skies
where the ships
of cloud sail aloft

It carries ashore
memories
of yesteryear
long since gone

Are you still there
in the sound of the waves
in the voice of the wind
those, we do miss?

Sophia (21)

I sometimes still think
of the Window on the West
as I'm reminded
of your voice

You visit me
from time to time
as I'm reminded
of your serene smile

I sometimes still think
of the roadside house
of your songs in Lochmaddy
and your happiness

I once waved good bye
in the midst of the night
and you waved back,
almost for me to return

It's been long years
since our last farewell
that April evening
in North Uist

You are missed
by many, also me,
after you quietly swam away
from Berneray

Your little companion
still awaiting your return
looks out at night
for your familiar form

I sometimes still think
of the Window on the West
the window on you
the queen of dancing, singing and joy

Outlook

The great open skies
opened up each morning
whether to sunshine
or to teeming rain

The wind whispered
or roared
The boats came in
and went out

Dusk is now settling
over the low hills beyond
and the lights flicker on
in their familiar places

As cars whizz by
their lights sweep the wall
if and when
they turn the corner

I can see now
more clearly each day
with the black presence
which way you'll be heading

I often think back
to those sunsplashed days out
or sometimes as the rain came down
showing each other a special place

The bond remains strong
however informal
but I can see plainly
what way it will go

Maybe one more season
of welcoming them all
from all corners of this earth
I really hope it can be so

If I can be there
for that one season
I'd be privileged
If it could be

Sophia (20)

The road with no return
was trodden by you
three months ago
almost to the hour

It is not a tarred road
with signs and lights
or a track that leads
through the fields

You left behind
what you would
otherwise
never have abandoned

As you swam away
on the midnight tide
we were not aware
asleep under the stars

We found you asleep,
gone,
but left behind
memories and love

At the Window on the West
your companion will wait
until the time comes
for you to meet her again

I still hear your voice
and I know you are near
We shall carry on
and take you with us

In memory of Donna

Ground Hog Day, Donna - but Phil's but a rodent.
It's winter, but the sun never sets where you're at now.
The snow glistens, but your light will forever shine
Missing your cheeky cheer, but you're not really gone.

Winter 2019

In the shelter by the sea
although the gale is howling
the quiet of the night
will give way to morning

From the darkness of the night
to the first vestiges of morning
the open skies of the south
with the pale blue of the north

As boats come and go
as stars move in
their never-ending orbits
as the years progress

In the shelter by the sea
Nothing stays the same
the years are telling
as you bravely carry on

I still can't tell the future
but then, who can?
Winter is here for now
but spring is due soon

Sophia (19)

As the light returns
it reminds me
how you yearned
for the end of the dark

Although it's cold
snow now melts
the ocean sends
its distant winds

You oft were cold
to be close to nature
to feel her close by
under bare foot

Now that the airwaves
are silent
of your voice
your songs remain recorded

Recorded in my mind
remain the memories
of you
and your companion

You've passed
through the dark
out of the cold
to the everlasting light

Under the Southern Cross
and the Pole Star
we now know
you, mermaid, swim

One day, she
the black one by your side,
will join you
from the Rainbow Bridge

A bright star you remain
touching the lives of many
still, even now
we will not forget

A call

The wind rattles my window
the rain clatters down
not seen the sun
for some days now

The land of trees
is darkened now
no green just black
their boles rear up

An echo from
the far northwest
from whence
these clouds have come

A voice now gone
from the Empire of Stone
reminds me of
the pale blue skies

The land of trees
I shall come back to
after returning
to the far northwest

Sophia (18)

New Year is here
the Epiphany
has opened
many an eye

Every now and again
you look over
my shoulder
and smile at me

It is now two months
since you swam away
on the midnight tide
under the northern stars

Every now and again
you visit us
reminding us of
what you once were

Uist is empty
but your voice lives on
and what you created
remains with those you loved

The light is returning
with the winter gales
you would have heaved
a sigh of relief

Your companion awaits
your return, one day,
longer than she might know
but assured - at the Rainbow Bridge