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A Windy Wonder (Revision of Winding Green Galaxies)

Laura Corrigan, 2013

The only view available is the green
Mountains cascading each into
The other and continuing for miles.

The air is filled with the tin whistle,
As the mind swells with a jig
And red curls that accompany a smile.

There is no way to describe it,
The scent is Ireland:
Sizzling sausages on the range
And the crisp air that clears the mind.

The garden, early in the morning
Makes sneakers wet and remind
Us of the damp cold weather.

The feeling of the horse’s
Mane as I hold on cantering into the river,
The rough recurring breath soothing.
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All Information Copywright by Chimes Publication, Saint Mary's College 2010