A Sea Loch Graveyard walled and gated

hues of purple peated earth,

the stones stand stoic, weather dated,

washed up from their briny birth.

 

Some names unknown “A Sailor” lies,

in silence resting side by side.

Adrift they came from distant skies

as tears that fell, though never cried.

 

On other shores long lives lived out

to wonder at what might have been,

had warships turned their hulls about

and left these barren hills unseen.

 

And here they stay to linger long

their bones and dust remembered well,

though this is not where they belong

they are embraced as those who fell.