The Rock That Sits In The Bay Poem by Francis Michael Bacon

We came to stay above Loch nan Ceall,
The sand and the sea and the sky over whelmed us,
She gave us a focus, let us appreciate the tides,
Settled our interest on part of the horizon,
Welcomed us, did the rock that sits in the bay.

Accompanied and busy, a family of seals about her play,
Back and forth, out and in, basking in the warmth,
That her granite furnishes from the rays of the sun,
A fishing boat anchors there, and a devoted seagull stands,
These and more dwell about the rock that sits in the bay.

A dreadful storm ripped the sea apart one year last,
For a time all disappeared under the dark fathoms,
First the fisherman returned to bury the pup,
The seagull tended and they let everyone realise,
Life would return to the rock that sits in the bay.

When tide allows we wonder out across the strand,
Breath the salty air and face about towards the land,
The whole village looks peaceful and settled from there,
This precious island gives everything her perspective,
Family returning we leave the rock that sits in the bay.

Last Hogmanay we revellers looked out across the water,
Dressed in the moonlit beauty of a sea blue haze,
Celebrating our friendships present and past,
The fisherman the seals and the seagull, happy in the night,
All of them embrace the rock that sits in the bay.

(2012, Arisaig)