Night falls over stone -
The day is cold and done
Its embers vanishing
Behind Meall Fuar-mhonaidh
And the writing disappears
In the waning light, the
Beech trees rustle
Softly in a quiet breeze,
The September avenue
Awash with leaves

And there they lie
Sleeping, mother
And daughter
Who held hearth and home
Together - from all these
Miles away I
Whisper dreaming of their
Lives both bright
And gay
And the love they
Both are keeping
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