#irishdreams

[sightssoundswords]

[sightssoundswords]

[breiadeeann]

Today was full of adventures. My husband and I rented a car and headed out to the Cliffs of Moher. It turns out driving on the other side of the road isn’t that hard. However, it also turns out that a standard size car is quite large on the narrow country roads of Ireland. That was a bit more challenging. I felt like I was in a real life Mario cart game. Note to self, next time rent the smallest car they have and pay for the full insurance coverage. But the drive itself was beautiful. The Irish countryside is just like the pictures, lush green rolling hills with short grey stone walls and grazing sheep. Such beautiful scenery on the way to the Cliffs of Moher. As for the cliffs, they are breathtaking! Truly gorgeous! We walked all the way out to the southern tip just as it started to hail. It was slightly painful when it hit the side of my face, but we hightailed it down the trail and managed to make it to the visitor center without getting totally drenched. Then we were back on the tiny roads again with a quick lunch stop in Galway on our way up to Belfast in Northern Ireland. Since Northern Ireland is technically the UK the speed limit changes from km/h to mi/h and the currency changes from Euros to Pounds. Just a couple things to alter tomorrow before heading out on another adventure. 

[fernfootofthemountains-blog]

Bullshit #2

One day

Maybe,

I’ll move to

Ireland.

Maybe I’ll

Sit by a pond

And wonder

When a gentle-man

Will ask to hear

What I am writing.

He will understand

That some days are

Grey.

That some days we are

Faced with a truth

Of the world

That is just

Too much to accept.

He will

Run his fingers

Through my hair

And tell me it will

All be sunshine

Once the grey’s turn black

Or white

And finally decide

What they are.

Then I won’t be

Monochrome.

I’ll be two-toned

And full figured

And beautiful.

I need to be white, or black

So that I can paint something new

Over what used to be

The Greys

That flood my head for

Days,

Sometime Weeks.

Sometimes the weed

And the wine,

They help.

Sometimes they let me

Feel

Or sometimes

They just stop the flood

Of empathy.

One day

I’ll sit by a pond and

Dream of the gentle man

That won’t want to lift me up.

But rather sit down next to me

And show me how he ties his shoes.

We’ll talk about blessings

And the words they come wrapped inside

And the people who make the most beautiful paper

To give gifts.

We’ll talk about

Determinism and the

Certainty of free will,

Because neither of us really

Believe in A God.

We’ll sit on the bank

And make dirty jokes.

Lists of innuendos.

That end with smirks,

Like children who just discovered

Curse words.

Well have some tea

Earl Grey

Steeped deep

And hot

But it won’t ever burn our tongues

Because they have been moving too fast

Ans we forgot about the drink.

By the time we get to the tea

It’s cold.

We will sip it eagerly, anyways,

Because it means we don’t have to part just yet.

Then we might get very quiet.

We will sit on the bank

By a stream or a pond

And we will find comfort in each others

Silence.