Isles of Graney Bay

Isles of Graney Bay
The seagulls flocked upon the rocks in Graney Bay.
They rise upon the ocean, basking in the sun's array.
By the hundreds, they spread their wings in Scottish skies.
While the pipes play off in the distance, a sonnet of Charlie Blye.

The resonating sounds of the birds drown out music in my ears.
While the anglers set their traps from the crudely built piers.
I gaze out into the cold blue water, which cries out for me.
 For it is time I find my sweet lass across the Scottish sea.

To leave my shanty shack built upon the cliff overlooking the glen,
Where the site gives way to heaven's emergence from beauties, den.
I shall avail myself upon the crag to cast my soul towards the deep,
For I shall not rest another day for the lass I dream of in my sleep.

I hear her wails as sweet and clear as she cries out from the deep blue sea..
I know the bonny lass is beyond the mist waiting for our true love to be.
At last I will stay, as all my dreams are but dreams as I am old and grey.
As the seagulls fly and the pipes play on the isles of Graney Bay.

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