Poem No. 57

POEM TITLE The Castle Whispers

POEM

Thirsty waves dance over the dramatic smile of Black Ness,

As the Lobster Pot Pub beckons,

A beaming example of Scottish hospitality,

While the crumbly, vanilla and grey castle,

Buttered in faint sun,

Reverberates with the ghosts of covenanters,

Lost souls,

The guilty and the innocent,

Their silhouettes flashing across the stones.

Appeals for mercy crying out even now,

Across the silver winds of Blackness on Sea,

The castle walls clotted with moss, Stained with salt-lashed tears,

Refusing to surrender to its past.