Sonnet

One day, one perfect foggy day I'll see,
I haven't got the pieces I could gather;
I'll stroll among the path through glens with heather
Which look as an uneasy purple sea.

One day, one never ending day I'll smell
Wet smoke of fires through the sweet of heady;
I'll hear the sound of distant pipes which saddens,
The peal of wind and cry of churches' bells.

Among the hills I'll find the highest hill,
Among the oaks I'll find the one that's higher.
I'll sing and call; then when I feel too tired
I'll fall asleep... to never wake and feel

With somebody who's made my dream so brave -
The silent friend who's sleeping in a grave.