Here’s a sultry, sensuous poem from my guest poet for this post, the talented Meg Macleod.
I remember braiding her hair,
the woman who shared her island with me.
“I can’t reach it now,” she said to me.
Her hair, as soft as silk,
pale golden silk.
My fingers lifted it, brushed it out,
dividing it into three strands.
I slowly braided it
letting it fall down her back.
“So fine,”I said. “Beautiful.”
I walked out across the sun bleached porch
and stood looking out over the sea
while she wrapped salmon in seaweed
and baked it in a fire between the rocks on the shore.
Poem copyright of Meg Macleod
Meg was born in 1945 in England. She lived in America and Canada before moving to Scotland in 1974 where she now resides on the north coast in a house looking out over the sea towards Orkney Islands. Meg has a BA in Fine Arts. Her beautifully illustrated book of poems entitled Raven Songs is available to buy from Amazon.

Lovely gentle ageless images in this poem. It could have been written 3000 years ago, it’s the simple things in life that resonate and create memories.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Sweet poem and great pic! 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Tom.
LikeLike