The Orkneys, Scotland
by Lynne Remick
Cradled in the sands of time,
Skara Brae lies sleeping
Secrets of primeval man
kept safe in her keeping.
Standing beside stones so old,
I am but a mere minute
Oh, to see the lives unfold
that once had breathed within it.
Slabs of stone a table make
a boulder serves as a chair,
I feel a presence in this earth
of one no longer there.
Life no longer flows within
the ages have come creeping
Scara Brae held tight its tales
while history was steeping.
by Diane Davis
Green,
as far as the eye can see,
rolling, unending,
with 'nary a bump
or crevice
to break the blanket
that covers this earth.
Slate sky
reaching down between
the thick gray clouds,
opens
just a crack,
to let
heaven's light
shine through
in bold
and vivid brushstrokes.
Black shadows
cover the tales
of centuries ago,
silhouetting sagas of
warriors and battles
within the castle walls.
A row of trees
kiss the horizon,
raising their shadowy
arms to the glory
of God.
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