An Islay Malt
I hold within my hand
The isle
Within the glass.
The life and times
Of loved ones.
The morning dew.
The sea.
The sun.
The sand –
And then, through that,
The smoke from Donald’s fire
Comes drifting through the years.
The trout that Susan’s man caught.
The breath of deer, then back
To days unsure,
When Somerled did rule
The wild peat covered land.
All this within
The glass within
The hand.
Janette Hannah
(Taken from The Whisky Muse, edited by Robin Laing)