I first blogged this poem in October 2017 when blogging was absolutely new and strange to me and I was unaware of how much pleasure it would bring.
We have a favourite place in Scotland that overlooks the River Tay, so we often just sit there and watch the water. The Tay is also known as the ‘Silver’ Tay and it really does shine silver. It’s a very beautiful river.
Behind where we sit, there is an Old People’s Care Home and the ladies are often sat in their little conservatory. Although they are old and sometimes fragile, you can still see in them the lovely young women they once were. That they can see the Tay, too, must be a tremendous pleasure to them.
This is the poem I wrote about that Care Home and the ladies.
LOOKING ACROSS THE TAY
The swans are out again,
Shimmering on the dark water,
Dipping into the splashes of moonlight
they become moonlight themselves,
Every feather sculpted in light.
Little white snowflake swans
Drifting down the silent river.
Behind us lies the Care Home,
Where glass walls welcome the lovely moon
And one lone bed
With a quilt as red as roses,
Lies empty in a corner.
The old ladies who live there,
Watching the white and sparkling swans
Sailing on the glittering water,
Dreamily send their pretty, remembered bodies,
Down that golden moonlit path.
Frail little birds
Who soon overtake the swans.
This river and heaven
Must have a lot in common.