Without thy hand...
It is the wild whistling wind that blows from the West
Which brings to mind thoughts of yesteryear
When I first met thee on the highest of cliffs
Back home in Scotland, core of my heart so dear
Ever so sweetly I set my eyes upon thee
Watching thy long flowing gown being swept about
And beaten at the wind’s command
With thy long fiery locks brushing defiantly
Against firmly pressed lips
Seducing me as they dance on thy countenance
That day of many blessings is why I now sigh
For it was then that I became who I am as a man
And it is fitting that I be grateful and not deny
Thy splendid youthful love I did receive so kind
And all that you made me feel deep down inside
I never did return to the land of my birth
Since that day in May when I was cursed
By a rival who I did cut with my sword
And thereafter had to flee on ship aboard
I sailed across the sea to No Man's Land
Without thy hand
Oh Lord!
Without thy hand
I have forsaken thee and thy love forever more
With thy memory as all I have to hold
I love thee!
“And I love thee in return,” I hear thy voice say
From whence you now reside
In the windy chambers of my mind.
© Copyright Maria D'Alessandro 2012. All Rights Reserved.