A Drunken Irish Poet  

slippinowt 60M
0 posts
3/2/2006 8:41 am

Last Read:
3/5/2006 9:27 pm

A Drunken Irish Poet


... His heart danced upon her movements like a cork upon the tide. He heard what her eyes said to him beneath their cowl, and knew that in some dim past, whether in life or in revery, he had heard thier tale before. He saw her urge her vanities, her fine dress and sash and long black stockings and knew that he had yielded to them a thousand times. Yet a voice within him spoke above the noise of his dancing heart, asking him would he take her gift to which he had only to stretch out his hand... Now, as then, he stood listlessly in his place, seemingly a tranquil watcher of the scene before him.

Become a member to create a blog