Monday, November 28, 2016

untitled (in Ireland)

Oh, what to do, what to do,
Should I, could I
Move cross the sea,
Cross continent to that,
Would I be welcome,
Or shall I be shunned,
Told to go elsewhere,
Could I find home?

So at the Cliffs of Moher I started to hike along the dangerous path, taking it slow, but when I was hit one way then the opposite by strong gusts of wind, I decided better of it, and went back, writing a limerick of what could have happened:

There once was a man from Seattle,
Against the winds of Moher he did battle,
From a sudden strong gust
Over the edge was he thrust,
On the rocks below his bones did shatter.