Oh those cold, dreary, wet, winter days spent inside, warm and dry, looking out into the drizzle of these grey skies.
Ar scáth a chéile a mhaireann na daoine.
Lovers are patient, or so they say.
The quiet hours of our strange days
hold me close as hours pass and I look
into the clearing sky, a cold horizon falls
upon this tired denizen of the little
idiosyncrasies that life grants, such as
remembering, detailing, wondering what
atmosphere is and wandering down its path.
Follow your heart,
Consider with your head.


For awhile I thought innocence still lingered
in this old world. A fool I was,
That young word is used
against those who would
otherwise loiter on this old earth.
Ar scáth a chéile a mhaireann na daoine.
The future never arrives, plans contend
with the present just trying to survive;
We need be content, lost in sometime
and sometimes I do, I wish I was high.
I remind myself of someone,
I am so lucky to be alive
and when I realize
I am content enough to rest
for a time; sigh
What little of me did ever survive.
I wish I could offer you more
but I am selfish, I write
only for myself.