Can you find it in your heart?

The sullen Munroes of my home invite me to stay. There, in the silent dales, dim and bathed in umbridge, I shall walk and find the songs of my ancestors embedded in every stone, in every green leaf, in the heather, that crests the foggy tips of ancient giants. Can you find it in your heart to walk with me and listen to the songs, to hold my hand?

Crushing waves disturb the view, spray on my face, seagulls in my ear and the endless murmur of craving seafarers, lost, now hiding in dark places, safe from envious eyes and greedy hands. There, I shall sit and feel the night crawling in, on surreptitious paws, made of whispering wings. Can you find it in your heart to sit with me and feel what I feel, crave what I crave?

Wandering the streets of this town, the city of trade, the city of commerce, nestled into the bay of eastern shores, I can see windows, lit with mirth and unknown faces, meet friends and listen to their many stories, hold hands, hug and give advice, but there is this one window, this one story, I like to hear, the one hand, the beautiful hand, I want to hold, the one magnificent body whose bosom is my abode, your advice in my ear is what I need. Can you find it in your heart to be my other me, to be with me in heather and in spray? Can you be my ear, my eye, my hand to hold?

Can you find it in my heart to love me?

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