Abysmal

I do it even in my sleep. I’m quite proud of this, I just can’t help it.

Yesterday I was reviewing some photos I took in Ireland.

This morning before I woke I dreamed I visited Quinn Abbey and had dinner with the Abbess.

We ate curried potato and drank mead.

I found myself gazing into her eyes as she into mine, and I awoke as I realised that when you stare into the Abbess, the Abbess stares into you.

Quin Abbey

Apologies.

I had a Nietzsche to scratch.

Author: Uisce úr

Though I am old with wandering Through hollow lands and hilly lands, I will find out where she has gone, And kiss her lips and take her hands; And walk among long dappled grass, And pluck till time and times are done, The silver apples of the moon, The golden apples of the sun.

Please leave a Comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s