Hey all, here's the weekly poem, were taking a hypothetical trip to Ireland. Having never been there this is all guess work based entirely on the internet and "The Quiet Man" with John Wayne. I hope you enjoy it.
Emerald Hills
The brae of sheep as the roam the fields
fills the mist filled morning air
The glistening sheen of rose bushes
as they line the walks of gentle cottages
Humble villages with shining eyed locals
welcome each lonely traveler as they pass
A quiet time in a local house
a good meal and a neighborly chat
The onward again following
quiet lanes lead on through rolling hills
covered in an emerald landscape
Well, what did you think. Either post a comment below or head over to my facebook page and post there, I'd love to hear what you have to say.
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