Drifting in and out of sleep, Not a sound can be heard but the rushing beating heart within me. Someone in mind and memory breathes such life into me! My love renews me; how deeply he moves me, makes me more than what I am, Shows me all that I can be. . . He … Continue reading Mo chuisle
Irish culture
Céilí
How long had it been? Well, excluding her sister’s wedding, it had probably been about twenty years. This side of Irish culture she dreaded. It sometimes reminded her of the final day of a wake – a social obligation full of decrepit neighbours and relatives inhaling tea and sandwiches. The well laid out corpse of … Continue reading Céilí
Ardent Writing 