The Last Visit…

There’s a cottage on an island in a loch,

Soot blackened, crumbling, forlorn, aloft;

Where the heather grows up near waist high

And the sun bleeds out over endless sky,

Where a moment can last forever

And where the Eagles fly.

And I swear I hear you calling out my name

As I row the gentle waves across the loch;

And I’m sure I feel your breath upon my neck

In the little wooden boat that slowly rocks.

‘Twas a time gone by, another life ago,

When we had seeded all our hopes to grow

And allowed our dreams to stack.

Dream upon dream along life’s planned track

But never did we think

That God would snatch you back.

And I swear I hear you calling out my name

As I look back across the water past the rocks

Where the ghosts of all my yesterdays remain,

In the cottage

On that island

In the loch.

Follow more from Christina J. >>>

https://www.christinajwords.co.uk/