Sunday in Uist.

Sunday in Uist.

So quiet, so peaceful
only the tick of the clock,

time is insignificant
having breakfast at ten,

taking it easy,
this is different!

Christmas morn in Grenitote.

Christmas morn in Grenitote.

Santa has arrived!
Rustling noise of wrapping paper and packaging,
happy sounds from the living room wake up the household,

Neighbours call, family phone and
soon we are in the throws of Christmas Day!

The joint is cooking in the Rayburn,
Vegetables are prepared, wine breathing, table set!

Laughter & love, presents galore, games & gaiety,
add to the thrill of Christmas morn in Grenitote!

Christmas in Grenitote.

Christmas in Grenitote.

No sound, no noise, no cars,
all peaceful & quiet in Grenitote!

D.R.’s sheep and cattle dapple the landscape
grazing and moving slowly,
distracted by the buzzard’s stretched wings,
soaring and gliding, then gently landing
into a dip I cannot see.

Dearest Dad

Dearest Dad.

Did you hear the rain?
Did you feel the pain?

Did you sense our presence?
Did you smell us here?

You couldn’t speak,
You couldn’t move,

We wondered what you
might have said,
we wondered what you
might have done,

Wish we had more time
to tell you how much
we loved you dearest Dad!

Isle of North Uist.

North Uist ..a creative place to be

writers, artists, architects too
all enjoy the tranquility,

Each day is different, light,
sunshine, wind and rain

What shall I do today
paint the door or sweep the floor,

no list exists, its how I feel
a burning desire to climb that hill!