Poem of the Day 3/17/21- Something Like an Irish Verse


Your laugh, lilting like lines

Flung from a fiddle fair,

Sweeping sweetly o’er the shaded field

Where once we were young

Now echoes only in my mind,

In memories, clouded-

A Pine forest in the morning mist,

A bridge fogged over

Until there can be no certainty

That there is another side-

Only in this hollow palce

Does that joyful sound

Now ring, now roll, now rise.

And how I long to hear it once again

Ripple across the deep blue ocean of your eyes.

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