Sprauchle to Green Corrie Loch

Within her smooth bealach cleavage
Betwixt two ancient gneissic breasts
Stones as white as snow pink glisten
On paths that asp-like rise to crest

The ancient ways and corrie ridges
Coiling round her secret jewels
Lochans hid from spirit’s gentiles
Assynt’s myths misunderstood

As faeries laugh and wash her tresses
Snaking down her marble sides
Her shining crown hurls Helios at us
Laying us down most spent and blind.

Assynt pilgrims from your withins
Sculpt forth thy fossils hid in rock
The end’s to know how to begin, the
Sprauchle to Green Corrie’s Loch.