sarah-ellen-swinburneWhisper

Irish

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That, To Me is BeautyBeauty is not flowers, given by a lover. / Nor is it meadows and birdsong. / And definitely not the pantomime of Weddings, with their

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I used to be a MoverI used to be a mover. / I ran, and danced, and climbed trees. / If I saw somethng I wanted, I reached for it, worked for it, or asked an adult to get it for me.

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The WatcherDo not stay idle nor linger for fear / There is great peril for those who wait here / And do not be merry, nor chortle with glee

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The First ChangeWe used to sit on radiators and laugh. / Heads thrown back, not caring that / Everyone could see my black fillings

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