"Seasons"

It happens,

overnight the seasons change.

And expected as the change may be,

it nonetheless surprises me,

to wake and find the summer's slipped away.

It happens,

overnight people change,

I tell you this because I love you,

and to love you is to live in fear.

The fear that I'll awake and find

the seasons and your feelings

changing.

~ Randy Jaroch

U.S.A.

~ Beannaichte'

20 November, 2021

@beannaichte.twitter.com  

 

"West Texas Waltz"

He was a honky tonk hero

She was the West Texas Rose

He had his hands clenched in hatred

She made the sweet flowers grow.

They met on a Saturday evening

At a place called the "Last Chance Saloon"

Her hand in his stopped the trembling

When he laughed as they danced

 cross the room.

The jukebox was playing a beautiful song

A tune called the "West Texas Waltz"

And it seemed like the whole world 

was dancing along

With the music controlling it all.

Away, come away from that window

Come lay down beside me awhile

You know I stepped out of the shadows

To walk in the Warmth of your Smile.

Nobody knows me like you do

You changed me and made me a man

I gave up the life of an outlaw

The day that you gave me your hand.

 He was a honky tonk hero

She was the West Texas Rose

They met on a Saturday evening

 She made the sweet flowers grow.  

~ Billy Joe Shaver
U.S.A.


~ Beannaichte'
  20 November, 2021

@beannaichte.twitter.com  

 

 

Ballad of a Runaway Horse (EmmyLou Harris)

Mary Black - Song for Ireland

" The Mist"

I am wondering if you can find me

I am lost in the Mist

You have  crossed over the Veil

~ And I miss you.

Yet, you are with me...

Sometimes I hear your Laughter

 I remember the happy times

~ And I miss you.

I am wondering if you can see me

Then I would know, I am not Lost-
 Traveling inner landscapes of Grief    

~ And I miss you.

Yet, you are with me...

Sometimes I see you in my Dreams

I wonder if we share the dreams, together

~ And I miss you.

I am wondering if I will always miss you

Maybe, I am not really Lost-

I am just lonely, in the Mist 

~ And I miss you.

Yet, you are with me...

Sometimes I feel your Touch

Your hand upon my shoulder

~ And I miss you.

I wonder if I will stop missing you

Will you think, I have forgotten you

 Love is never lost or forgotten

~ And I miss you.

Please find me in the Mist

And let me Know, it is all right

To not miss you, so deeply

Tell me ~ You are with  me.

Alicia O'Hara 

Copyrighted Material ; 3 August, 2013 


~ Beannaichte'
3 July, 2021
    

@beannaichte.twitter.com 

"The Invitation"

It 

doesn't interest me 

what you do for a living.

I want to know what you ache for,

 and if you dare to dream

of meeting your Heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how olde you are.

I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for Love,

for your Dreams,

for the adventure of being alive.

 It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon.

I want to know if you have Touched the centre 

of your own Sorrow,

if you have been opened by Life's betrayals

or have become shriveled and closed

from fear of further pain.

I want to know 

if you can sit with pain,

mine or your own,

without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it.

I want to know 

if you can be with Joy,

mine or your own,

if you can dance with Wilderness

and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your

fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful,

be realistic,

or to remember the limitations 

of being Human.

It doesn't interest me if the story

 you're telling me is true.

I want to know

if you can disappoint  another to be True to yourself;

if you can bear the accusation of betrayal

and not betray

Your own Soul.

~ Oriah Mountain Dreamer

~ Beannaichte'
15 June, 2021
 
@beannaichte.twitter.com

" Sacred Hoop"

I watch her

 She sits,

fully concentrated- 

with her 
Eye on the Needle

Her stitches are tiny and varied-

precise, and incredibly neat.

I touch the worn wooden Hoop
 a Sacred Circle, in Her hands

The muslin fabric-

  a rough cloth,

will become softer, with Her working

Much the same, as Her hands,

have done with me.

I examine the different coloured threads

 carefully wrapped,

around  pieces of discarded paper

She loves bright colours

 I see their reflection

in the Eye of the Needle-

in Her intelligent eyes.

She knows how to make use of things

  Learned through Hard Times

She does not boast -

 Her way is one of Quiet Knowing

She never wastes words
Knowing,

So much counts, in the Doing.

I am Happy, as I sit near Her

Watching Her fingers, guiding the needle,

Skillfully, through the fabric

 Eyes Steady

Not unlike her Heart-Always Steady

As the Eye
of the Needle. 
 

Soon a Pattern will emerge

One She has worked, with Patience and Care

One day, I will Understand

She did Her Best to Prepare me

For a much larger Canvas; a Life-Tapestry

 Guiding, Teaching, and Loving

With Her Eye, upon the Needle. 

~ Alicia O'Hara 
~ Copyrighted Material; 26 June, 2013

 ~ Beannaichte'

16 April, 2021

@beannaichte.twitter.com