Your Poetry Dot Com - Ripples on the water

''What a beautiful morning'' someone chimes
as I step outside for my first cig with my first coffee.
I can still feel the snugness of my recently vacated bed,
but frailties have to be catered for.

We're housed at the top of a mountain;
the sun dazzles and glistens,
feigning an impending warmth
over a frost-covered Devonian-shaped Highland landscape.

There, stretched out before me
the eternal attraction for believers and non-believers;
the Loch of Lochs - the Ness,
the Scottish crown jewel of myth, or of monster.

I stand there shivering;
in awe of its beauty, its grandeur,
its magic, its magnetism,
and its secrets (if there are any).

I think of nearby Urquhart Castle
that stands by the loch's edge.
If only its ancient walls could talk,
or are they also part of a silent collusion.

Wondering and pondering.
Then - ripples on the water
and suddenly I'm fully alert ....

.... I can smell breakfast.

This poem is Copyright © spud