she sparkled like the sea shining in the sun

eyes the colour of sky pulled down with sooty fingers

hair of rain-dark bark of a forest of old oaks

perfect in that annoyingly innocent, artless way

          massey was jealous

          a green-eyed scamp

          with a monstrous temper

          and a chip of dynamite

          on her shoulder

he and she walked shoulders touching, fingers entwined

whispering scintillating extemporaneous sonnets into each other’s ears

wrinkled couples nodded knowingly and gazed fondly at each other

such a lovely pair, dark and blue and bright and free

          massey looked away

          green eyes lowered

          face blenched beneath freckles

          she waded in deep

          drifting out to sea


                                                                 some say she escaped


One thought on “irish

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