Barbara -5

Wistfully I look back
At what is now left
in memories
and pictures

Summer days in the sun
Snow covered nights in winter
Spume screaming past in autumn
Flowers bursting out in spring

Your smile sings out
from beyond the void
I'm reminded of you
at every turn

The valley of the salmon
Was the last you saw
outside your house
that August day

The moor beyond
and the distant Atlantic
would not see you again
after that time

I'm left with glances
into the past
that I can no longer
remind you of

Your stories
are now beyond me
of people that were
already beyond you

I love you to bits
although you're not here
you were the best
you were a good girl

Barbara - 4

And I still miss her smile, her encouragement and the simple life we had. I still admire her determination to carry on. It must have been hard for her to have given up on her garden, her kitchen and all the other things that gave her such joy. But at times, she could barely keep her head up, so much was she deprived of strength. I go upstairs at night, and sometimes I think I catch a glance of her there. I still see her wizened little form sitting on the bed, asking me to lift her legs onto the bed. And that took no effort on my part. I would come into the room, and she'd ask "who's there" and upon being told "Guido", Barbara would respond "that's nice!". We had a good laugh that last evening, when I returned from a brief jaunt around the bay. Before the darkness enveloped her, she hugged me and told me "you're a clever boy, that's our secret". I helped calm her down, she often said. And I helped calm her down, right at the end by calling for medical help, to dispel all the demons that beset those who are dying of a terminal illness, so she could slip away peacefully. I wasn't there at the end, that was purely for her immediate relatives. Her spirit flew off into the light of the rising sun, and I knew she was at peace. I looked out over the sea, smooth as a mirror that morning, the sea she always wanted to be near to.

And I still miss her. So much.

Barbara - 3

You left me at sunrise
I saw the light coming
as you
were leaving

You meant so much
for so many people
you were so much
to so many people

The sea was smooth
as you fled away
from decline and suffering
from old age and pain

The sun shone brightly
as it met your soul
soaring high
to Tir nan Og

Many a day
I shall still miss you
Much will remind me
of halcyon days with you

I shall go on from here
leaving you behind
as you dreaded
being left behind yourself

You're now a constant
upon which I can change
I'll never forget
what you have meant to me

I miss you
but that's fine
I'll always remember you
for who you were

Hallowe'en 2020

One day, a carpenter walked over the hills of Harris from his home at Bogha Ghlas on Loch Seaforth to Luachair, on the shores of Loch Reasort. After finishing the job at one of the houses there, the people told him to take any remaining planks with him. On the way back, his footsteps on the rough track came regularly, but what was that strange echo? Intermittent echoes of the footfalls? No, couldn't be. A double take on each footstep? Not either. Tap tap. Tap tap. The man shifted the planks on his shoulder to adjust for balance and continued. The dark face of Stulabhal reared up ever closer, and he thought the tapping sound was an echo of his footsteps from that great rockface. He had not experienced that before, having made the journey many times before. But his mind was in such turmoil that he could not remember that. The great empty valley of Langadale stretched before him, but his descent to the river, nor the crossing, nor the ascent to Vigadale remained with him. All he heard was tap-tap, tap-tap.

The sun was once more setting by the time the carpenter reached the bridge at Bogha Ghlas. He saw his cottage ahead, but there was no light inside, nor any sign of motion outside. The approach of any passer-by was usually sufficient to bring his wife outside, but not that day. The 'tap-tap' that had been haunting the man since leaving Luachair had gradually ceased. He threw the planks off his shoulder, and they fell to the ground in a loudly clattering heap. He called for his wife, but heard nothing. Opening the door, the cottage was dark, the fire cold. The bed was occupied, but there was not a living soul about.

Tap tap. Tap tap. The next morning, the carpenter was hammering a coffin for his spouse. And he suddenly remembered what the noise was he had been hearing all the way from Luachair the day before. Tap tap. Tap tap. The noise of his hammer, building a coffin. The noise of the carpenter's hammer, over in Luachair, as it too built a coffin for its master.

Barbara - 2

The sun had just risen
and took your light
with it
beyond our sphere of being

All I'm left with is
memories
reminders
echoes

What was needed
to make you comfortable
as the year wore
you down

The implements
of mobility
now stand
still

The heater
is cold
The hot water bottles
no longer needed

I look around me
and see you
the way you were
for all those years

A room
empty of you
except for
your things

A sunny corner
the sea whispers nearby
here you rest
until the Breaking of the Day

In memoriam Barbara

On 6 October this year, I lost my close friend Barbara. She passed away after an 11-month battle with cancer.

I brought you to your final resting place
under the sun
in the wind
by the sea

I was with you
when you were terrified
warding off
the oncoming darkness

I made you laugh
at sunset
on your final day
we laughed as light left us

I encouraged you
each night
as you struggled
up the stairs

With a stick
hauling yourself
around the pillar
bereft of strength

I sat with you
watching
detectives
and gameshows

I loved it
when you came along
for that final carride
up to the top of the moor

Your fight
was valiant
right
to the very end

National Poetry Day 2020

It's National Poetry Day. Let's pen a few lines.

Washing over the moors
like waves of green
the swells of peat
formed from aeons of plantlife

Founded over ancient rocks
dating back to the start
of our very planet
the peat stretches for miles

A swirl of scented smoke
is the first release
of solar energy
captured in the chlorophyll of yore

Autumn 2020

Autumn came in today
With a flourish of rain
a sweep of wind
and a breath of cold

Darkness is encroaching
through our evenings
the mornings darker
every day get

The birds are flocking
ready for the off
others will flock in
to rest here for winter

As life fades steadily
leaves turn from green
white horses ride the waves
in the harbour across the wall

The last week
of the seventh month
summer's over
welcome autumn

September thoughts

I am remembering those who have gone on ahead tonight, and Sophia was one of them. My memories start with her little house at Tigharry in North Uist, just off the main road on the West Side of the island. I still remember her broad smile and serene face appearing in the doorway as she welcomed me in, chiding me gently for being early. Endless talk ensued, three nights running, with Torran looking on out of the shadows. For my convenience, Sophia kept an angle-poised lamp on, but otherwise she preferred the dark of the night. I am not the only one to say that my brief encounter with Sophia was nonetheless profound. She quietly slipped away in the night, leaving Torran behind, now nearly two years ago.

Summer memory

The house by the road
stands empty
of you
in the sunset light

The road echoes
to the memory
of your feet and dance
and laughter

The machair sighs
under the winds
of this world
where the sea roils ashore

Your feet still tread
Your happiness lingers
The marram grass rustles
to the tunes you made

She who knows all
is at the Window on the West
for when you return
you'll never be apart again

July remembrance

Far behind now
The memory
of the darkened house
and the starlit sky

The roads are now quiet
the beaches deserted
the machair flowers wave
calling out your name

Enhanced by your memory
your music and spirit
We espy the mermaid
in eternal seas, singing of life

She who knows all
awaits at the Window on the West
as we that are left behind
smile wistfully at your memory

Winter and decline

You're now in your winter
days growing short
whizzing by
at a rate of knots

Fighting each day
some of them good
more of them bad
a little boost sometime

I wander about
look at places
we used to go
where you won't go again

Your world has now shrunk
to just four familiar walls
of many years
your homely abode

Not much left of you now
Not much left for you now
Those you have missed
over many hard years

Will be waiting
to welcome you home
under the stars
by the endless sea

Wishes

You're now far away
under wintering stars
or in the gloaming
of the Hebridean sky

I'm sometimes reminded
of you
of your voice
what you stood for

I knew of your wishes
one was not granted
but your love
was not unspent

Maybe a visit
to old Stornoway,
to old haunts
on antipodean shores

As the daylight
lingers through the night
your memory
lives on in us all

She who knows all,
your faithful companion,
will rejoin you
beyond the Rainbow Bridge

After you finally stride
down the garden path
to collect her
from her forever home

In memory

The curve of the beach
glistens under the full moon
The surf runs up
to the wreath of kelp

Your steps dance along
the dunes' sand
the marram grass bows
in the midnight breeze

The birds' voices
are your voice
the seals' call
is your call

The lighthouses wink
lighting up
the dark springtime
seas

The Window on the West
frames your memory
the world wide web
retains your voice

She who knows all
is safely ensconced
your memory is in her
as it is in us all

Swim strong
mermaid
We'll be here
who have known you

The Year of Silence

The sun shone
blindingly
from the westering sky
down the gleaming street

But none would come
that would now have come
On however many wheels
or on happy feet

The boat that carried them
now carries none
the way is closed
although it is still open

The excited faces
sometimes a lil green
other times tired
Always pleased to have come

now will not come
our summer will be
empty
still of voices and faces

The whacky bus
the hired cars
the taxi hired
from the plane

Even the ships
of hundreds
the music lovers
of thousands

None will now come
The island is silent
Imperviously
the Stones will Stand

The Year of Silence
Let's hope it's but one
till our cheerful friends
are welcomed to return

Remembering Sophia

I couldn't see you
Yet you were there
Darkness had fallen
but we needed no light

The late night radio
tinkled out
the closing strains
of Sailing By

I could not see you
But we were close
The wind blew
The rain lashed

Oblivious but
to each other
I would not
could not leave

Knowing that
by leaving,
I'd leave you
for good

I was lost
in the darkness
but your voice
guided me

The Window on the West
I would not see again
neither she
who knows all

I would meet you once more
in the House of Music
once more embracing
almost not letting go

Knowing that
by leaving,
I'd leave you
for good

That night in November
you swam away
she who knows all
knew what she had lost

Looking out each night
waiting for your steps
to come striding
up the path

As one day you will
return to collect your companion
from her new forever home
to cross the Rainbow Bridge

The year of silence

The sun shines brightly
longer hours each day
The wind is in hiding
the lambs gambol

Nobody stirs abroad
A curious line of people
stretches, 7 feet apart,
to a familiar door

The ferry brings no-one
The ferry takes no-one
The brightly sprightly
visitors will not come

Each day now
is Sunday
except it is
not Sunday

Even the churches
are closed
all is shut
until further notice

The year of silence
the year of silent fear
who will be next
do we know who

March 2020

The days are lengthening
you would have been delighted
the lambs will soon gambol
round the machairlands

The sun rises early now
caressing the Window on the East
her smile tells me
you are there for us all

The curved beach at Balranald
whispers your name
covers your footsteps
where you left so many

In touch with mother Earth
along the roadside in Horgabost
the barren rock
touched your bare feet

You are still there
where I first met you
at the Window on the West
as the light fades into sunset

You will always be there
in the machairlands of the west
where the grasses talk of your songs
and the flowers long for your return

She who knows all
patiently waits in her new forever home
you'll come to collect her one day
and you'll both go over the Rainbow Bridge.

February 2020 - II

Winter's in its final days
The sun has made its promised return
Headed north
soon past the equator

Daylight now past 6pm
Not long now till the equinox
Snow will come
and more high winds

The grass is brown
rustling horizontal
in the unceasing
gales of the northwest

Hailstones dance
in a fandango with the wind
but crows are nesting
and lambs will soon be here

As the days open out
the machair is empty
the roads derelict
the beaches waveswept

The Window on the West
is framing the setting sun
in a house now empty
of your voice but by memory

She who knows all
is awaiting patiently
in her forever home
for your promised return

February 2020

The wind blows hard
waves thunder ashore
snow patters
wet against the windows

Light is returning
from solstician gloom
but winter fights hard
to retain its icy grasp

The Window on the West
remains empty
She who knows all
patiently waits

The house on the shore
time bends you down
struggling on valiantly
where age ravages

Day drags by day
on the sloped street
where the circle decreases
as it goes round in time

I cannot retrieve
what has long since
been lost
hard though I try

The wind blows hard
the sheets of icy rain
lash the cobbled road
along which I stumble on

The passage of time

The clock ticks
quietly
the hands turn
imperceptibly

The hours go by
the sun rises and sets
days flow into weeks
months into years

Another year
has crept round
flown by
almost to completion

No not Hogmanay
I was reminded today
of the passage of time
time that is limited

A flashback I saw
of someone close
to you
who went on ahead

A reminder
what the years
can do
have done

Your spirit is strong
your body is not
the years are
claiming it

You're battling on
not one for giving up
but I can see now
what time will do

January 2020

I was thinking of you today
when I met you, all those years ago
in the sunset
along the lonely road

You took me in
in total trust
and confidence
that I would not betray

We talked
as the sun set
and darkness rose
into the March night

She who knows all
was by your side
only young then
much wiser now

In the wee town
we met again
and for a final time
for music and song

You disappeared
through the thronged door
never for me to see you
again

Your music remains
as does your memory
I know you're there
when times are hard

She who knows all
patiently waits
at the Window on the West
for your eventual return