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.