"Midsummer '95"

I met reality thirty years ago.

Crossing shallowest sea I

came to a simple jetty.

Above to the right, a narrow

road between stone walls led

to abbey, midsummer’s sanctuary.

Thirty years ago, I met reality.

She was first a lover’s name

breathed in a far away city;

desire kindled amid commuters;

soft voice whispering, “Iona”.

Iona, soft voice whispering,

gentle waves scraping sand,

desiring your embrace again

bowing my head

remembering my parents

greeting me at Oban’s harbor,

fiery-faced from my encounter

on ancient Dun I,

sun settling over ocean,

golden passage carved

across stilled seas.

Thirty years later,

recalling eternity’s touch

remaining, even while night falls.

© Phil Kemp 2025