Snow On The River (Ii) Poem by jim hogg

I saw your eyes in pale blue lines
you'd posted out of Oban
And breathlessly I kissed your words:
all that I could hold then

But if I listen to the night
I sometimes hear the chords
In the smoke that bends away from
the fire of your words

The Gallery at Kelvingrove
One Thursday I recall
Your face in every picture-frame
on both sides of the hall

And in your eyes wild holiness;
the kind I could believe
Like waves that break so free upon
the west coast of Tiree

I stopped a while at Flannan Isle
for Christmas, eighty four
And found the dreams that dreamers weave
unravelled on the floor

The food was on the table still,
but all the birds had flown
As if you'd never even been,
as I stood there alone

And once by Chapelrossan house
beneath a sky so clear
across the white lines of our lives
your eyes became the sea

The moon was full above Lang Rigg,
the trees were silver white
I played your chaperone, and you,
my weakness for the night

It's so long since I held you close
it might have been a dream
Though all the moments we once shared
still seem so real to me

I spent an evening in your house
long after you were gone
But part of you's still lingering
between the painted walls

Sometimes I see you strolling on
the lane beside the loch
Down where the ghosts of you and I
once took themselves to walk

You're always in the distance though
I wait for you to close
'til geese curve down in darkness there
where water grasses grow

T'was on the isle of Islay once
from Bridgend heading west
The sun reflecting from the sea
Kilmeny filled my head

I heard your voice by Loch Gorm's banks
break through the veil of time
It took me back to Glasgow when
we still walked side by side

On Nessock Terrace one spring day
a fond and fleeting glance
unleashed a swirl of memories
of where it all began

A disco in Drummore Church hall,
where dreaming filled the air
we kissed and held each other tight
and now that's all we share