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"where have all the people gone"

Title: "where have all the people gone"
Posted by: John MacKinnon on 18-03-2007

Discussion: Hello again from Canada. Spring is just around the corner, the lake is thawing and the fish are just waiting to be caught. What a wonderful time of the year. We have had a good winter and seem to have come out of it no worse for wear. The forum is an interesting part of the site, it would be nice to see more input to the from members of South Uist. Even a wee bit of info about the Island and what is going on is always nice to read. Especially from us so far away. It seems like we are all a bit bashful to post an entry. Think about it and give it a try. Untill next time, have a good spring and keep the home fires burning. John MacK

Replies to this post

Posted by: Thomas Riley on 25-02-2008

Thanks Anne. John Goodwin left here - East Grinstead - and bought a slice of land by the Long Lake. He's building a house there and has the poem framed ready to hang when finished. I'll need a larger size in hats.

Posted by: Anne Ellsworth on 25-02-2008

Hello there from Canada. Awesome poem! Aren't the four seasons just wonderful? Now, just at the time I"m so sick of snow and -15C temperatures, I am looking sooo forward to spring. You took us through those seasons beautifully, and I thank you. Flora

Posted by: Thomas Riley on 09-02-2008

How can I edit the title of a post, freind of course should be friend. Oooh! sackcloth and ashes.

Posted by: Thomas Riley on 09-02-2008

The North Country. for John Godwin (by Tom Riley)

I will go out to the North Country and build a cabin there;
And sit by the lake, in the peaceful night, and gaze at the stars and moon.
I'll restore my mind in tranquillity, breathe deep of the wine like air;
And we'll hear the lone wolf's cadenza, and the wailing cry of the Loon.

Fair Spring will come with its sunburst light, and nature will awake.
The Maples will store their rich sugar wine and hang out small silken leaves;
And fish will leap with the joy of the times and teem in the still, 'Long' lake.
We will take our ease after sundown, 'neath the pine shingling of our eaves.

All in the glory of summertime in forest's busy shade,
We'll walk in the woods amongst the tall oaks and conifer's endless lines;
And bees will hum a Puccini like song as they work in sunlit glade:
While the hot sun-glow will make incense, rise to the heavens from the pines.

Magic time in the fall of the year, Nature with painters hand,
Arrays the tired trees with rich night attire, as in, the evenings creep;
And we will gather the gifts of the lake and the bounty of the land,
As life in the wild and dark forest, prepares for its calm winter sleep.

Land will renew its virginity under its frost-white cloak.
Kept warm in the glow of a great log fire we'll smile at the snow and the rain
But, when the roar of the storm has died, and vertical rises our smoke.........
Listen! faraway, muted, lonely, hear the plaintive cry of a train.

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