Cold evening. Leaves cover the ground. Mind free of thought. Darkness comes early and with it silence. Lit a match. Instant flashback to Halloween time long ago in Ireland. Smell memory.
Oh how she caught my eye... men who saw her drank deep and were silent... The bicycles go by in 2's and 3's... There's a dance in Billy Brennan's barn... It's a horse Tayto, A horse! Sometimes I think ye are me Heart, Christy Brown...
Oh how she caught my eye...
ReplyDeletemen who saw her drank deep and were silent...
The bicycles go by in 2's and 3's...
There's a dance in Billy Brennan's barn...
It's a horse Tayto, A horse!
Sometimes I think ye are me Heart, Christy Brown...
you two are so gay with your poetry
ReplyDeletein spain, no halloween in these parts really. too bad there's no Shite Night !
ReplyDelete