Green as Harp tones in the spring
Liquid and soft like water spilling over the rim
Grey cloud castles dissolve in mild vapour
Or shatter drops on the fields
Languor settles as pebbles rush and heave.
Sea and earth meet
As rainbows splitter the iridescence
Tasting salt and sweet but
Enveloping the hills in golden mist.
Fables and fairies thrive
From tiny cobbler to howling banshee.
Stone crosses grow on mossy banks
Overlooking abandoned farms
But rich in history and hardships endured
True to destiny, defiant in despair
Never submitting to fate or distress
Glorious past and uncertain future
Affect the hearts and strengthen the minds.
Sound the Bodhrán and let the fiddle sing
Fleet feet will dance in the streets
Incomprehensible as an open book
Written in Swahili or ancient Greek
If you happen to read no such languages.
Not all the tea in China nor lexicons or How To
Paperbacks can conquer or explain:
It puzzles and titillates novice as old hand
But no one can claim freedom or disinterest.
Awe-inspiring or pathetic
We all have brushes with the wondrous
The truly impenetrable but
Insistent, exacting, severe challenge
That takes without asking
Denies without reason but
Succumbs easily and gracefully
When least expected.
Master and supplicant
Idol or divine creature;
Flesh without substance
Form or essence:
Who can lay hand on
Or even begin
To comprehend the
Nature of love?
From ‘Aspects of Attraction’