Evening Alchemy

A few weeks ago my home was Iona.  There in cradled comfort – rocked by the rhythm of the North Atlantic tide  a circle of poets gathered – all called to this most ancient isle where it is said the veil is thin.  A world on the edge of the ocean where magic lives and possibilities are born.

Twilight tide

carries evening rose

magic’s alchemy

soft sipping

turquoise turns

to silver silk

where dreams are kept

in an old sea chest

 

Born selkie

brown and round

soft speckled

freckled face

liquid love

gentle eyes fill

dreams found

in the old sea chest

 

Staffa’s song

sails on moonlight waves

quiet ocean dance

curiosity honed

as tiptoe-tail

he tickles silken kelp

for dreams are found

in this old sea chest

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