Driving across the curving bridge, light, space
gentle lochs joining, air shimmering burnt orange,
Eddi Reader reaching for Burns on the radio.
A bonny lamb gazes shyly from his mother’s side,
hills embrace us like jade silk, stretching to infinity.
Warmth nudges shadows from sinew and soul.
You take my hand and kiss it softly
And I will luve thee still, my Dear,
Till a' the seas gang dry.
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