Snow On The River Poem by jim hogg

It was back when skies were bluer and hearts were worn on sleeves
I'd fallen for the first time, into love, head over heels
Then chased its shadow, traced its trail, and held it here and there:
This dream that sparks such blinding flames and haunts us everywhere

You were dancing at a discotheque behind old Eldon Street
The wars of love were almost done but kept us on our feet
I wore McKechnie's tartan to the drumming of retreat
I knew too well that one more touch would lead me to defeat

You were there at this beginning when we sat side by side.
We walked the endless circle but slipped through the ties that bind.
We both had dreams and love enough though that's no guarantee;
Not every river flows until it flows into the sea

It was long ago on Gibson Street and you were on my arm
In snowflakes falling on your hair outside the Shishmahal
I saw forever in your eyes to music in your voice
Before I realised that I would have to make a choice

In winter now I hear the wind so softly call your name
And through the Kirk of Inch I've chased your shadow to the gate
I dream a face in photofit before me where I sit
At last I think I recognise just who the photo fits

We lay in April sunshine as the winding Dee flowed on
(A rebel blonde in Levis she was Lady Eleanor)
The heat-wave came and never broke until we said goodbye
But you were right and I was wrong: we really should have tried

From the Ice Rink bar down town once we watched the curlers play
They played just through the glass but might have been a world away
Your lips and thighs in passion's rush soon torched that winter's nights
For years I thought you were the one but hindsight's not as blind.

But like a river under all sometimes you still burst through
The locks and walls I'd raised against those moments lost in you
And sweep me through The Bridge of Sighs, through flames by Fairhurst Road
As all my words fall short again....... in this humble ode


I saw your eyes in pale blue lines you'd posted out of Oban
And breathlessly I kissed your words: all that I could hold then
But if I listen to the night I sometimes hear the chords
In the smoke that bends away from the fire of your words

In the Gallery at Kelvingrove one thursday I recall
Your face in every picture-frame on both sides of the hall
And in your eyes wild holiness; the kind I could believe
Like waves that break so free upon the west coast of Tiree

I stopped a while at Flannan Isle for Christmas, eighty four
And found the dreams that dreamers weave unravelled on the floor
The food was on the table still, but all the birds had flown
You never felt so real as when I stood there on my own

And once by Chapelrossan house beneath a sky so clear
Across the white lines of our lives, your eyes became the sea
The moon was full above Lang Rigg, the trees were silver white
I played your chaperone, and you, my weakness for the night.

It's so long since I held you close it might have been a dream
Though all the moments we once shared still seem so real to me
I spent an evening in your house long after you were gone
But part of you still lingers there between the painted walls

Sometimes I see you strolling down the lanes beside the lochs
Where often ghosts of you and I must take themselves to walk
You're always in the distance though I wait for you to close
'Til geese curve down in darkness there where water grasses grow

T'was on the isle of Islay once from Bridgend heading west
The sun reflecting from the sea, Kilmeny filled my head
I heard your voice by Loch Gorm's banks break through the veil of time
It took me back to Glasgow when we still walked side by side

On Nessock Terrace one spring day a fond and fleeting glance
Unleashed a swirl of memories of where so much began
A disco in Drummore Church hall, where dreaming filled the air
We kissed and held each other tight and now that's all we share


I saw you once in Janet's Lounge in how you flicked your hair
And for a moment we were on the Town Hall's sandstone stairs
Back when it looked like we were bound to join the chosen few
I touched your arm and spoke and when she turned it wasn't you

I scrawled our names in stone upon the seawall at MacDuff
I thought the end would never come, but stone's not tough enough
To stand the blast of wind and wave, that took the love we had
Somewhere between the Sandhead shore and fading photographs

I watched your plane come gliding down from north of Anniesland
Your name was in the vapour trails as if by your own hand
You threw your arms around me there as everyone looked on
But I was just a refugee from someone else's song

An Islay piper stopped and played Loch Rannoch just for me
I saw your eyes in shadow as I stood there on my knees
We crossed the line of madness once when whisky set us free
Forbidden fruit that called so sweet, we knew could never be

The notion we've lived other lives makes little sense to me
Yet somehow we connected then as if we'd always been
We hardly spoke, we hardly touched, we often turned our backs
On something deep that seemed to break the laws of time and chance

I heard you once in springtime babe, down where the bluebells spread
Between the White Loch and the road, in words we left unsaid
In purple perfumed haze down there, I traced the scent of grief
It wasn't you; just thoughts of you, upon a trembling leaf

But sometimes you're there everywhere, I'm sure you know it still
We could have been, as we'd been seen, but not for lack of will
Our good friends tried to keep us tied; for that I'm grateful too
But there were walls that wouldn't fall, and so I ran from you

And memory's too swift it seems to fall behind for good.
Portpatrick isn't quite the same but still stands where it stood.
For years I thought you'd crossed the sea and checked the stars each night
Though not a sign was ever seen, the flame kept burning bright.


To Arthur's Seat we climbed equipped with love and cheese and wine
We had a party in the sky until I saw the sign
A shadow ranged against the clouds politely asking why
I took my pen and wrongly answered X instead of Y

The ancient bridge across the Forth had criss-crossed all my dreams
In yon Dalbeattie hotel beside the little stream
And like a fish trapped in a net, once desperate to escape
I gazed back through the tempting mesh when freedom came my way

Not quite as brash as Lochinvar I stayed outside the kirk
I didn't bring my broadsword and forgot to bring my dirk
I built my armour round my heart and traded love for song
But plainly Lochinvar was right and I again was wrong

And Stirling seemed so far from your Balgowan in the spring
I dreamt you homewards everyday; you gave me songs to sing
Though you were Yarrow bound my love through Ettrick into Tales
By trails too complex to foresee, beyond where reason fails

In Ali's words I caught a glimpse of you so long ago
The surf from Islay's shores washed me right back to Woodlands Road
As time came rushing all around, a kid 'Who Sold the World'
It's what fools do when we think we've got time and love to burn

So where were all my wits back when the blossom was in bloom
Too busy with the harvesting, or blinded by the view
I'd love to say I've no regrets - if only that was true
But new dawns call while snow still falls, and while there's thoughts of you

I look down all the highways now and see you in disguise
You're all the girls I'd fallen for but didn't realise
Yet when the time arrived to choose, I chose to hit the road
Amongst the special few love, you're the only one I'd know

And all the songs I've scribbled down I wrote for you alone
but you're out there somewhere between the farthest stars and home
I've chased your shadow, traced your trail, I've held you here and there:
A dream that sparks such blinding flames it haunts me everywhere.


I saw you only one more time in all those years between.
We stared into each other's eyes across a Glasgow street.
We stood awhile without a word then went our separate ways.
And now, at last, the snow has stopped; this river's full of rain

- This river that's been running underneath this winding life
Beneath the falling flakes of snow that melted into mine.
Confession soothes the soul they say, and I've been truly blessed
Yes, I have loved and I've been loved far more than I deserved;

And I had luck beyond belief and found a creature who
Exactly matched all my ideals: a girl I barely knew.
I worshipped at a distance: you and I were in our teens
The girlfriend of a good friend; it stayed that way for years.

I built myself a wall of ways to keep you out of bounds;
A wall so high my love for you could never quite break out.
But bitter-sweetly day by day while you loved someone else,
We gradually began to know each other pretty well:

In sober times or drunken times, on land or out at sea
And never crossed the line that separated you from me.
Then changes came. They always do. Our lives were thrust apart.
And both of us soon settled down to make another start.

Until we met in Miller's bar, and all our hinterland
Crashed thrillingly around us, though I didn't understand.
But you were tied and I was tied, and that was my excuse,
Though both of us came just an inch away from breaking loose.

That night outside the Old Mill lounge I left it all unsaid,
But no-one ever loved me quite the way you loved me then.
And later by the golf course lane I couldn't say what's true;
I never wanted anyone more than I wanted you.

And so, of course, I walked away and lived some kind of life.
I heard about you now and then, but never took the time
To sort amongst the crumbling past, and get the story straight.
Now here you are, still woven through, these pieces that remain


It only takes a little step to alter everything.
A song we might have made our own, a song we'll never sing;
Or worse perhaps, through simple fear, a step I wouldn't take,
And didn't realise that I would ever have to pay.

Repression seems to be my thing; I've done it all my life.
The reasons why don't matter now (they'd take too many lines!)
Suffice to say the more I've felt, the more I've locked away,
But all of it escapes in time and heads straight for the page.

And this specific storyline's a classic of its sort.
The first time I caught sight of you I knew that I was lost
I knew that I would lose myself, or you'd be out of reach,
And riding to the rescue came my inhibitions team.

They kept my thoughts and all my urges strictly above board,
But not quite strict enough to stop the feelings I ignored.
I wasn't brave enough to ask, and then the chance was gone.
My very close acquaintance took your arm and then moved on.

And while I dilly-dallied some, it happened once again;
Another close associate came swooping swiftly in;
Which meant of course that we'd have time to test those walls I'd raised.
Instead of falling deeper in, I should have stayed away.

And thus to these incessant words, this frenzied full court press.
So far I've underdone the praise, for mostly, more is less:
Your body made me tremble and your beauty left me weak,
So weak it seems I found it hard to simply just be me.

In all of that the fault was mine; I should have made that clear.
I chose a path that made no sense unless there's sense in fear.
And truth to tell, the act of choice is hardly choice at all:
we build and burrow, count and care, convinced we call the shots,

But ants, if given speech would crow, like us, they're got it down.
The only difference they'd concede is we've got bigger towns.
Now maybe I should mention next how this all came to pass,
By which I mean repression chose to bite me on the ass.


It seems I might have said enough, but still I must say more:
I have this urge to speak again, to knock on your front door,
As if I'd set in motion wrongs I feel compelled to right:
A wrinkle in your distant life, or something lost in mine.

I'd never dreamed of you before, which in itself is weird,
Yet never thought to wonder why, and that is just as queer
Until a day or two ago, when all this stuff began,
And in that dream the strangest thing: you and another man

(Yes, one more eager friend of mine!)were at it on the lawn.
And I, in full repression mode, ignored the goings on.
So well repressed was I that even dreams of you were numb.
Your vintage was my main concern, so I was doing sums.

(And that scene sums this story up; it's not a pretty sight:
The left side of this fevered brain, at war against the right!)
Eventually I worked it out, but you had slipped away;
The morning came, with things to do, and words to write and say.

But in my head, throughout the day, a dam began to burst,
And waves of feelings, long contained, soon flooded my whole world.
Now five days later, in this ark, catharsis is the game;
Dear sunburned girl dressed all in white, there's only me to blame,

And nothing here of yours, or song of ours to listen to,
Nor scheme to fool the laws of time; there's only what was true:
An extra-ordinary girl, an ordinary boy;
A river-full of hope and fear, a blizzard-full of joy

And altogether not enough of courage and belief
I lived my life without her though and found some kind of peace
And more than shreds of happiness through almost all my years
While hers, I hope, were filled with thrill and all that she held dear

The fireworks of passion have a "best by" date of course
However deep, however true, regardless of its force
Yet hearts still break, the skies still fall, and nothing will prevail;
No armoured walls or will against love's sweet and tender gale.


And now the journey's almost done a balance must be struck
Between forgetting on the rise and wisdom yet to come
Or maybe thought's irrelevant to matters of the heart
Sensation, thrill, enchantment all combine in cupid's dart

And leave so very little room for anything but love
And all of its commands until, its spellbound course is run
Yes, I suppose that's where I am: on mountain top or stool
and looking back in wonder at each frame on every spool

A bashful kid, I stayed that way through every winding turn
And every ruse to free myself just made the problem worse.
It's who I am and much too late I've almost come to terms,
But might have beens that never were can still provoke regret.

There is so little certainty in all that living brings
At least from here that's how it looks, and youth is short of wits
It sees just what it wants to see, and at its beck and call
A future where it all works out, where only sunlight falls

Except of course we learn in time that life has other plans -
The reasons why I've washed up here are numerous and bland.
The changing tides, the wind and waves, a million little things
Contrive to steer us where they must, in league with time's fleet wings

We also learn, if given time, that much of what seemed real
Was merely nature's sleight of hand, its cunning masterpiece
It shapes the lives we think we lead until the penny drops
So much of living is mirage and endless Russian dolls

The guy behind the curtain plays the longest game of all
He's algorithmic, merciless and juggling every ball
And unaware of everything, the tenderness and tears
Exquisite moments binding hearts, and all our deepest fears

But here we are, in happiness, in struggle, and in doubt
and all of that is real enough to see us through somehow
I'm old now, but don't feel the years, and fancy several more
That's optimistic but I'll try, to sail beyond the shore.