Saturday, August 09, 2008
Tuesday, August 05, 2008
Friday, August 01, 2008
Yeats, sculptured verse.
The dim gray sands with light,
Far off by furthest Rosses
We foot it all the night,
Weaving olden dances
Mingling hands and mingling glances
Till the moon has taken flight;
To and fro we leap
And chase the frothy bubbles,
While the world is full of troubles
And anxious in its sleep.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
near Bundoran...
nearly drowned on a beach as this at 7 or 8?
walked to a sand bar, not realising it was a sandbar.
wading, half-floating back thru the surf
two sisters, two cousins, me &my mum.
close call...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)


