Friday Fiction - Walkin' in the Gloamin'

Walkin' in the Gloamin'

Twixt day and night, ‘tis dreamin’ time,
When e’re the sun is hangin’ low,
And the rosy skies are glowin’
I ramble long over hill and dale
And wish upon the evening star
When I’m wanderin’ in the gloamin’.

The meadowlark chirps its lullabye
To springtime lambs and wild conies,
And o’er the purple heather bloomin’.
I hold a blossom to my nose,
Reminds me of my true love’s breath
As we’re wanderin’ in the gloamin’.

A soft wind tosses my auburn curls;
My flushed cheeks, it now caresses,
Across the moors, warm wind blowin’;
It carries th’air of the salty spray,
The same that brings my true love home,
To be wanderin’ in the gloamin’

Me thinks I hear my true love’s voice;
He promised oft, he’d marry me;
“Someday,” he sighed, “I’ll be returnin’.”
Tis not my name upon his lips,
But the steady wash against the shore,
Neath me wanderin’ in the gloamin’.

I gaze beyond the farthest isles
And shade my eyes against the glint
Mid white-capped waves a-billowin’;
My achin’ heart, it pines and yearns,
I cannae spy my true love’s craft,
As I’m wanderin’ in the gloamin’

Darkness threatens o’er the eastern sky,
Stinging drops mingle wi’ my tears;
Light from yonder window beckn’in’;
“I’ll ne’er forget, nor give up hope;
Goodnight, my love,” I whisper low,
“I’ll be wanderin’ in the gloamin’”

For more stories, go to Karlene Anna's new blog Voices

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