Scotland in our minds and in our hearts, whatever the time….. it is always there.
Dreaming of Scotland
A Poem by Coyote Poetry
For a sweet woman. I won’t forget.
She was as pretty as a picture.
Fate had brought her to me at a dark tavern in Germany.
Her raging brown eyes and
auburn hair across gentle and soft shoulders.
Her fragrance of flowers open my senses to her beauty.
Her Scottish accent made me wish to hear her sweet voice.
I was told to be kind to her.
Love was dead to me.
I was infected with rage and hate.
I tried to escape her beautiful face.
Drinking and trying to blind my hunger for happiness.
She found me at the tavern.
She wrapped her arms around me.
Kissed my neck, face and lips.
She whispered “Love is a powerful storm.
Please don’t speak and allow us to love.”
In the…
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Owls and Orchids 
A nice reblog Susan.
Laurie xox
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