A breathless trek across the Sutherland moors,
Just you and I and the great outdoors.
Cold mist clung to those forbidding hills
as you taught me survival skills.
I began to crave this wild Wilde side of life,
and came to depend on a stranger close by my side.
A suggestion of something I read in your eyes
prompted a dread of eventual goodbyes.
Just then I stumbled over rocky land.
You reached out, caught me by the hand.
An electric current shot through me,
but what I wanted must never be.
Fog turned to rain then torrential downpour.
Desperate for shelter we scoured sodden moor.
Sole structure for miles was a shepherd's hut
derelict for well over two centuries, but
I hesitated. It was inviting I know,
as the rain no sign of let-up had begun to show.
Yet if we entered, instinctively I knew
it would destroy more lives than just these two.
But the moral battle was easily won
by our pheromones' prophecy of what was to come.
Alibis for absence I'd fabricate tomorrow,
And I tried not to dwell on eventual sorrow.
So bedraggled and freezing, we huddled together
on earthen floor with it's carpet of heather.
Then you built a fire in a crumbling corner.
It was soon ablaze - oh such bliss to feel warmer.
As I laughed at your stories, in the ember's soft glow,
I felt a fierce hunger between us grow.
We gazed into the depths of each others eyes.
Soon those ancient walls echoed rapturous cries.
For ecstasy began with the touch of your fingers,
and even today the memory still lingers
of wet clothes strewn all over the floor
as two became one against lichen-clad door.
