She smiles at me from beyond the eastern sea-shore.
Flashing jewelled 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.
I shoot on sight--it's my European legacy.

'Round the castle walls about the highlands and the islands
The faint reminders stand, a visitor 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.
On whiter cliffs I'm high. The sea birds roll and tumble as they fly.
I hear distant mainland music echo in my island ears.
My feet begin to move instinctively
To the warmer beat of my European legacy.

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