I walk…

out on the wind swept hills of Nova Scotia

where a lone piper plays a mournful dirge

while the whales frolic out in the bay

rocking to the ocean’s ebb and surge

aye, ‘tis a dismal day for lost thoughts

my yearning heart aches with this pain

as I wander high above the headlands

forlorn the foghorn calls my name

the squawking seabirds seem to mock me

my eyes turn misty like the foggy bay

I pause to hear the roar of far off thunder

wondering where could you be today

so I balance on the rocky cliffs of yearning

one step or two away from sweet oblivion

alas without the glow of your loving heart

I’m not sure how long I can hold on…