Lough Nigh the Flowers; Awash in Dreams

Aye, across the lough
to fields of heather,
breezes whisper their secrets;
matters of the heart left buried.
Deeply seated when first
the misty fogs lay clutched
to the barren shore. ‘Tis I
and your memory held fast,
a lasting marker upon souls
tethered and drawn nigh.
Nights spent with the softness
of your name upon my breath.
I sleep with lips of honeyed-kiss
pressed to my forehead.
Blessed lough of wonder you have brought me
here where I will keep eternity’s vow.



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