Rum Calling

Shouldering A Blue Bruised Sky
The Cuillins Of Rum Match The Wild In Her Eyes
Their Strong Silhouette Silently Calling;
An Opaque Serenade Of Contours Now Rising
Reaching Above The Furrowed Brow Of The Sea
Like A Crown Torn Out Of History.

Cobalt Ridges Muted By Whispers
Of Softly Spoken Clouds
Loom Out Of This Brooding Backdrop
Consuming A Salt Drenched Shroud
That Blends The Blue Grey Stillness
Hanging Low Across The Sounds

Where Tides Creep Into Inlets
In Search Of The Singing Sands;
Quartz Siren’s Of Past Times Beckoning
In The Lee Of An Earlier Land
Their Song A Beguiling Summons;
A Shimmering Cadence She Understands

Such Perfect Imperfection
Causes Her Heart And Soul To Stir
Her Gaze Soaring Like The Eagle
From The Edge Of The Ancient Sgurr
Where The Smouldering Blue Of The Cuillins
Calls To The Wilderness In Her

More Shayari by Rebel Heart
    05 Sep 2008 No Comment 6

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