Poems written for the Taynish Art Trail 2017
Taynish Mill
You can hear the moaning of the mill
The complaining of the timbers when nights are still
The sighing of the water turning the wheel
The grunts of Messers MacIsaac and MacNeil
Labouring and toiling in sun and rain
As they heft and heave the sacks of grain
Listen to the scratching of John’s quill
Under creaking rafters in the roof of the mill
Down below, dogs’ growl over scraps and bones.
When you hear the grating, grinding of the mill stones
The clanging rattle of gears and chain
The men from the past have started work again
©Kate MacDonald 2017
You can hear the moaning of the mill
The complaining of the timbers when nights are still
The sighing of the water turning the wheel
The grunts of Messers MacIsaac and MacNeil
Labouring and toiling in sun and rain
As they heft and heave the sacks of grain
Listen to the scratching of John’s quill
Under creaking rafters in the roof of the mill
Down below, dogs’ growl over scraps and bones.
When you hear the grating, grinding of the mill stones
The clanging rattle of gears and chain
The men from the past have started work again
©Kate MacDonald 2017
Sail through the history of the land
Sail through the history of the land
Listen to the whisper in the winds, of the past
Stories of love and laughter, of fear and pain
The seas have tales to tell
The winds had sails to fill
The waves murmur their secrets
And the stones chatter at the turn of the tide
The breeze kisses cheeks, ruffles hair, sighs in your ear
Sail through the history of the lands
Let the books lie idle and watch
See the people from the past
Sails hang from masts billow and flap
Filling with wind. Picking up speed.
Boats pitch and yaw, toss and turn
Sailing through the history of the land
Listening to the whisper in the winds of the past
©Kate MacDonald 2017
Sail through the history of the land
Listen to the whisper in the winds, of the past
Stories of love and laughter, of fear and pain
The seas have tales to tell
The winds had sails to fill
The waves murmur their secrets
And the stones chatter at the turn of the tide
The breeze kisses cheeks, ruffles hair, sighs in your ear
Sail through the history of the lands
Let the books lie idle and watch
See the people from the past
Sails hang from masts billow and flap
Filling with wind. Picking up speed.
Boats pitch and yaw, toss and turn
Sailing through the history of the land
Listening to the whisper in the winds of the past
©Kate MacDonald 2017
