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| old guest books |
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| My Wild Irish Rose
Let me tell you a tale of old a-fore when I Was a rambling and a roaming then Upon the heather way, I was a searching for my one true love To charm for ever and a day. Where could I but find her Those illusive flowing locks of raven hair, A soft rosey cheek complexion Of a tender skin so fair For the brave to be a having.. but ne're do or dare. But, I dreamt of her so For I thought she would bear me up above On angels wings To a land of sadness never seen. Well.. one evening I thought I had but spied her A running wildly through the glen, Her eyes all alight as diamonds Her garment a-blowing in the wind Then, the mist but up and shrouded her, afar, fleeing from me then. As the moonlight painted shadows flickered 'neath the sighing tree Eerie in luminous floating mist, I struggled through the grasping bracken Fearing of rocks below all dark and hallowed Her footstep not to miss. The fog did but lift as the clouds scudded by the moon I saw the face of an angel glowing tipped up toward the sky to croon Not a moment too soon, I discovered perfection delight Casting a most wondrous silhouette I gazed transfixed in that light, Never had I been a feared In the still of that vivid night. My breath I now held and was about to cry out, When the mist blew there across my sight And I stumbled sharp and fell. The moon smiled at my folly, as it sailed on it's way For ne'er then could I find her once more For be-sure, she vanished without trace And I am but left, with my story to tell Of the sweetest touch of amazing grace. |
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| MY WILD IRISH ROSE |
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