Memories of Uist inspire talented writer, Marina
Former staff nurse Marina McCuaig said she was ‘delighted’ to have a poem published by an online publishing platform, writes Colin Cameron.
Not only that, but her poem, Boundaries, was featured on the home page of the website US-based Spillwords Press.
Lochgilphead resident and mum-of-two Marina has been attending a creative writing course run by Marian Pallister at Argyll College and told the Advertiser: ‘My poem was inspired by the theme ‘final frontier’, which immediately brought Uist to mind.
‘I’ve had connections with Uist since my mum moved there in 1989 and I spent nearly every summer holiday there and made lifelong friends.’
Marina, who says she ‘wasn’t really one for poems’ before the course, continued: ‘Marian is a wonderful tutor and encourages us to develop and submit our writing.
‘A special thanks to Caroline Gauld, who keeps me going and has written several brilliant poems.
‘I’m delighted, but still find it hard to believe that my poem has been chosen to be published among many brilliantly written, thought-provoking and meaningful poems and writing.’
Boundaries
Round the gable then to the byre hunting for eggs, peat stack and back.
Busily doing important things, this was my usual tack.
My daily play and toil performed behind these fortress walls.
And all the while the smell and sound of the Atlantic calls.
A constant I neither noticed or could ever explain.
Gentle lapping to roaring and rushing, my circadian strain.
These were the confines and this was my whole world.
And I had no need or slightest desire to fathom beyond or unfurl.
Eager to spread my wings and migrate as the Arctic Tern.
I anticipated a life outside my island ahead of the ferry stern.
Outward bound and heading for adventures of life.
Dreams and endless possibilities in my head are rife.
Lists of must do’s, wants and fantasies bright as the sun.
Hope, expectation and imagined experienced like a tidal run.
On my way to adventures new, I could only imagine the prize in.
No fixed limit, no end in sight, only the eternal horizon.
In the beginning it was all vibrant, exciting and new.
Delight abound in novel experience, grasped opportunities and debut.
But unrelenting city bounds offer no softness nor solace.
In the constance and furore of a quickly familiar rat race.
Compact and grey, dirty, dreary pavements under foot.
Tarnished Silver, straight lined district of smog and soot.
One street like another I longed to be free and wander alone.
To draw in untainted air and live with a different tone.
Older and thoughtful, now I return to the fold.
Safe and secure in the warmth of my flock, come back from the cold.
Inhaling and gulping the briny air from my own front door.
I am comforted by the moat, as far as I can see from the shore.
Familiar outlines of land, sea and daily routine.
And happy memories of the different life I’ve seen.
Yellow pink skies, birdsong and whispering waves of dawn.
Contentment in my soul and my story carries on.