Dreaming of Scotland
Dreaming of Scotland
A Poem by Coyote Poetry
For a sweet woman. I won’t forget.
She was as pretty as a picture.
Fate had brought her to me at a dark tavern in Germany.
Her raging brown eyes and
auburn hair across gentle and soft shoulders.
Her fragrance of flowers open my senses to her beauty.
Her Scottish accent made me wish to hear her sweet voice.
I was told to be kind to her.
Love was dead to me.
I was infected with rage and hate.
I tried to escape her beautiful face.
Drinking and trying to blind my hunger for happiness.
She found me at the tavern.
She wrapped her arms around me.
Kissed my neck, face and lips.
She whispered “Love is a powerful storm.
Please don’t speak and allow us to love.”
In the mist of softness and opening new doors to joy and bliss.
Sometime you forget to create a safety net to protect yourself
and your sweet love.
A warm Germany summer allow two people to fall into the mercy
of a sweet love. Swim in the gifts young hearts can understand .
Summer was ending.
My Scotland beauty was going home.
She told me of Scotland.
The beauty of the country and the good people.
I told her.
I wanted her forever.
I talked of marriage.
Love took my hand.
She whispered.
“We had a short time to stay together.
I allow you into my heart. Sometime words don’t mean a lot.
Love never does died. It only falls asleep till we can open the
door again.”
She went home.
I got lost in the booze and liquor.
Allowed the deserved load of pain to overtake my kindness.
I still went to the small lake.
And I dream of Scotland.
Coyote
2010
I’ve always want to go to Scotland! This is lovely.
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It was a beautiful place in 1978. Still had the feel of old ways and kind people. I would go if I could..
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Reblogged this on Owls and Orchids and commented:
Scotland in our minds and in our hearts, whatever the time….. it is always there.
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I hope you don’t mind John, but it fits with my post today on Scotland. Beautiful indeed.
Susan
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I don’t mind. I’m honored you re-posted words.
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Lovely, just lovely. .
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Thank you for reading and the positive comment.
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Always welcomed. Will come back more often to yr blog for sure.
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Regret is a bitter acceptance of what was lost to us. Beautifully penned.
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You are right Tina. Regret leave us with the education to be wiser and kinder.
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Yes, if the person does not become angry and bitter then compassion and wisdom will grow. I am very grateful the latter proved true for both of us. Blessing upon you John.
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Me too.
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Reblogged this on 21 Shades of Blue and commented:
“You sit at the edge of the world, / I am in a crater that’s no more. / Words without letters / Standing in the shadow of the door. / The moon shines down on a sleeping lizard, / Little fish rain from the sky. / Outside the window there are soldiers, / steeling themselves to die. / (Refrain) / Kafka sits in a chair by the shore, / Thinking for the pendulum that moves the world, it seems. / When your heart is closed, / The shadow of the unmoving Sphinx, / Becomes a knife that pierces your dreams. / The drowning girl’s fingers / Search for the entrance stone, and more. / Lifting the hem of her azure dress, / She gazes — / at Kafka on the shore”
― Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore
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