Lindisfarne harbour
sunrise over special isle
Aidan came with love.

Harbour

Tiny cottage, Barely just
a kettle, but and ben.
He gazes through a grimy pane, 
Remembering back when.

He knows each mast, each bobbing lass, 
each sail’s repeated thrum ,
He knows the colour of each cloud, 
the danger poised to come. 

Today the sun begins her climb, through blooms of cocktail hues
He watches skies , as gannets white, plunge headfirst in the blue.

In childhood days, each colour bright
Harsh cries of men and gulls. 
While tourists snapped at bobbing seals,
Through portholes below hulls.


Old harbour walls knew every song
Each siren’s plaintive wail,
Each wild and raw tumultuous wave
Each slap of mighty sail.

Inside his chair he feels again, salt ropes coiled at his feet
A sea breeze through his longer hair
His bride he sails to greet.

At fireside now their knotted hands
Are curled close , like the shore.
Beneath a blanket gazing out 
Content to sail no more. 

Liz