Was it all real,
what was said in the night?
Words sound different in the morning.
But isnt the Romantic the one who knows right?
He is the one who sees clearly
that other world moving through us.
Believe the heights, believe the depths;
it is the banality of the middle ground that lies,
not the joy of the morning or the pain of the night.
I must cling to what is ...
Monday 11th July 2016 5:02 am
Recent Comments
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Bonnie Madleen
5 hours ago
Hélène on Letting Go
9 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on BUCKET LIST
9 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Letting Go
11 hours ago
Red Brick Keshner on part savage, part human
11 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Down on my uppers
11 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Weekly WalkaboutsVerse, E.G., Poem 61 of 230: WORSLEY VILLAGE
11 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Anyone For Tennis
11 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Compost
11 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on part savage, part human
11 hours ago