Pre-dawn’s grey burden lapped at breast and knee,

As stroke on stroke I parted glassy deep,

To wash the burden-webs of sorrow free,

Where silent swells—that voyeur—my bare body keeps.

Then limbs grew light, as floating upon sleep,

I let the cool flood enter where heat hides,

Your fingers—wave on wave—caressed, discreet,

I flipped; twin peaks welcomed dawn’s crisp air, gas...

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A Wee Dram

The dancing flames lick gently at the grate,
a bottle splashes amber to the glass,
soft chimes reminding that the hour is late,
aromas drift of peat and harsh deer grass,
the smoky mist of morning, with each pass.
The glow of bonfires as I gently kiss,
letting the rich swelling flavours amass
and burn upon my lips, no thoughts but this –
“how can something so bitter bring suc...

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