Toastie Oastie

Full moon sat on a window sill
Filtering through the panes
Into crystal whiskey heather fed
A gift given still savoured

Tunes out of tune
played with fingers on
skin drummed in today time
given over to sensation of pulse

Hill soaring stories from before
inclining to roof top angles
black and red burn brown bed
castle cloud monsters smile

In this house a long moon mile
can say in light, that which words
Have never said

But the cool touch of love
will forever be here
in this homestead.