Cool ocean breeze,
Salty air washed against my brighten -blushed- cheeks.
Waves crash and crumbled deep in the sand.
Early spring morning -fresh- of the toxic airs of an urban life.
The soft green grass -unforgettable- beautiful.
Long and flowing.
Twisted trees,
Wicked limbs reaching curling -but- beautiful, elegant.
Reds, greens, and blues on the backs of fluff coated
Sheep in the meadows.
Stone trails leading out, off into the distance, out site.
Miraculously tall buildings of stone.
Seeming to touch the highest of clouds.
Looking down upon so many as they pass by.
Scurrying quickly to their next destination.
Not noticing the blessing, the excitement the -beauty-.
No time to stop and lay in moist -soft- green grass,
To gaze upon the work,
That looks to be have done by giants.
Truly -lovely-.
Statues looking over the hills,
Of where so much labor has been taken by the land.
Dirt on hands, sores on feet.
Love in hearts, food in bellies.
Dancing in the far range of what you can see,
The lights as you enter the small towns.
The smells swirl through the long allies.
The sweet and sour fragrance of boiling soups
Filling my seances.
The music as you pass the bouncing pubs,
Packed full of irish men and women dancing.
Complete -happiness-,
With smiles the size of the Ring of Kerry.