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THE STONE SINGS SOFT.
The stone sings soft on Craiglee Peak
as grey gulls cry out at dawn;
the breeze at Craggy rock is meek;
his spirit flies free this morn.
Teardrops fall to Loch Doon below,
as snowflakes melt in the Sun;
in valley streams, memories flow,
and his race has now been run.
No more to tend his flock of sheep;
the wind now whistles his hound;
Craiglee holds his spirit to keep;
for his peace has now been found.
© Harry Harper
This dear old shepherd had often said that he could
hear the stone sing when the wind was favourable.
Posted : 16/07/2022 12:24 pm
Beautiful Harry! Some lovely lines here but the one which touches the heart: “the wind now whistles his hound”-love this!
Sue
Posted : 16/07/2022 6:57 pm
Harry Harper reacted
Topic starter
Thank you, Sue.
His passing was some time back, but never to be forgotten. Your comment is appreciated.
Cheers, Sue,
Harry.
Posted : 16/07/2022 8:13 pm
