She smiles at me from beyond the Eastern sea-shore
Flashing Jewelling eyes, she hoists her skirts so high
Nouvelle Cuisine or an oyster bar — it’s really up to her
I’ll write every cheque she brings to me
She shoots on sight — it’s her European Legacy
Round the castle walls — about the Highlands and the Islands
The faint reminders stand. Visitors who took a hand
A thousand years ago, or so — stranded high and dry by tides
Washed up a new identity, the channel’s wide
But it’s their European Legacy
I strain my eyes — against the southern light advancing