Standing here upon the rocks
Of a dark-grey Caithness shore
I marvel at the beauty
Of a pale-gold winter sun
Which through such rare appearance
Seems ever now more precious
As it casts shimmering light
On the waters of the bay
So too upon the shingle
Down there by the waters edge
That dazzles now like diamonds
Revealed by an ebbing tide
And as a gull - there wheeling
Silhouettes against its light
I turn and leave this splendour
In love with a winter sun.