When day is done, perhaps I’ll sleep

Without the need for counting sheep,

and Lethe’s flow will drown my dreams.

The nightmares of nocturnal screams

all gone, although the price be steep.

If Thanatos decides to keep

me in his grasp, then do not weep,

for I’ll be done with such extremes

when day is done.

Across the Styx I’ll softly creep,

where you won’t hear...

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As winter fades and turns to spring,

my spirits soar to hear birds sing

those songs unheard for far too long,

but welcome now amid the throng

returned to make the welkin ring.

The sense of joy this sound can bring

for such a subtle, simple thing,

to see flocks back where they belong,

as winter fades.

For some time yet a chill may cling

to fluttered feathers ...

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The bean sí’s cry defiles the night,

foreshadowing a spirit’s flight,

and as the final moment nears

at last she can release the tears

held back throughout that final fight.

Yet even at her heart-ache’s height

she clings to hope, however slight,

it’s in an evil dream she hears

the bean sí’s cry.

The flickering of candlelight

reflects in eyes now brimming brig...

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In dreams she came, my perfect girl,

To send my feelings all awhirl .

My dreaming eyes with joy would gleam

To see her beauty so supreme

I almost thought my toes would curl.

So when those dreams came to unfurl,

And tenderness my senses twirl,

In passion nightly it would seem

In dreams she came.

No matter were I king or earl,

Nor yet reduced to lowest churl,

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To be your friend is my desire;

And friendship’s bonds we can acquire

That last lifelong, through all our days,

With such a strength to brightly blaze

Though tested by misfortune’s fire.

So to this friendship I’ll aspire,

And set a mind that will not tire

Of finding all the many ways

To be your friend.

And in my turn I will conspire

To gain your friendship a...

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To find the muse I know not how;

As skittish wench or sacred cow.

She’ll tantalise and lead you on,

But suddenly you find her gone

And left you with a knotted brow.

The words won’t come at all somehow,

As gloomily your head will bow;

Though you contrive to battle on

To find the muse.

Those hopeful dreams of verse endow

Your aspiration here and now

For ins...

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