Silence, pierced only by the seagulls cry,
Jagged rocks sculptured by the wind and sea,
Tenacious thrift clinging to the rock,
Their heads, magenta, nodding to the breeze.
Stones, now scattered, evidence of the Picts,
Grazing cattle studying the sea.
Did we pass through some unseen barrier
To arrive in this timeless, silent scene?
Footprints vanish in the rebounding turf,
We leave no trace that we have ever been.
Defiant land, sea, unclouded heaven,
From this vantage point, given a clear day,
Ancient kingdoms, it's said, - seven,
Can be seen from here, Mull of Galloway.
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