Was it her eyes
that burned deep his desire
held him upon the fire
that glared deep within the prism of her soul
and burned asunder his fears.

He longed upon the mellow night
to wander those long sullen shores
where his lips tender
drew the sighs of the nights surrender
that echoed deep within her throat
and cooed upon the air.

The song of a passion deep
bore to the wild fragrance of night
where loves sweet majesty
but gathers upon itself
the frames of desire so strong
That all life hushes before it.

These ancient fields of our hearth
gather us upon their quill
writes the morning's song of these lovers still
whose passion filled from Glen to hill
The story of true love.

Though dear fate would see them gone
where tides so gather
in wind and song
Their blood and passion but here fills
the veins of their children
to that same want and eternal desire
That lit the heavens with loves undying fire.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph