Damn

Easter Sunday. And I’m out of eggs.

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.

4 thoughts on “Damn”

  1. Good to see your still tapping the keyboards mate…looked you up on facebook as I hadnt seen you pop up for a fair while. Keep well and Happy Easter
    Ash

    Liked by 1 person

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