On Arthur's seat

                                                             ON ARTHUR’S SEAT

I sit on a slab of rock

High up on Arthur’s Seat.

Behind me I can hear

The thrum of traffic and,

If I turn,

See Edinburgh laid out

While before me

 The Firth of Forth lies like blue dregs

In the bottom of a wide green cup.

The sun warms me and a

Cool wind blows across the hill.

Just below, a magpie hops, sure-footed,

Among the tumble of rocks

While overhead a gull glides

Bullet-bodied, wings stretched wide.

Beside me, small clumps of harebells,

Delicate mauve, are tugged by the breeze,

Colour against the grey rock,

Fragile yet sturdy, like life itself.