Simple words are worthy signs
Of inners worlds and outer planes
And may even hold some sway
Over smooth eyes and heavy sighs,
Or at least that's what they say.
But when you weep and weave and wail
When you live and grieve and love
When there's no wind in your your sail
Words will fail

Morning. She gets up.
The shutters paint
Her face a zebra.
The curtains whisper:
It's a grey day, not a bad day,
So she sips her tea with a sigh,
A smile and a cigarette.

Songful, Soulful, Sorrowful Ireland

Some new pictures on my Flickr feed: http://www.flickr.com/photos/groovyshamrock