Under Irish Sky
To lie in barley under Irish sky
As Herb Moon shone upon your naked form
My heart was captured by your Irish eyes
In peace before our passion’s gatherin’ storm
That night, my love, we quietly embraced
And cultivated tenderness o’ touch
A lifetime’s magic, in that time and place
Against which all loves since must not be judged!
My wish, to see that moon again with you
Without the cares that life has since imposed
In hindsight, all my future I’d eschew
And stay with you forever unopposed!
A fool I was, to ever say goodbye
To you, in barley, under Irish sky!









Good poem for a warm & stormy early-June evening….damn I’d love a shot of Irish whisky now! But I shouldn’t. For normies, it’s best not to dwell on the what-coulda-beens, but lost love is a timeless and never-tired staple for poetry & poets!
Only when A.I. completely takes over will it ever be otherwise.