The dawn of a day is when life takes a deep breath. – Ash
a little bird sits
on a wire wondering where
it shall fly to next
in a strange city
both sitting at the bus stop
hoping that one’s home
my face lay against the sweltering rock
with one side toward the sun kisses
clouds above me stream along
shapes and sizes I make
a tickle breeze keeps me away from biting flies
my knee is skinned and bleeding a little
is it supper time
as a whistle blows
cars scurry home like ants
wait…is that a plane
then we jump
from the rocket-like stone
twist our ankles to the ouch side in
wince and run the whole field in one burst
we reach that one spot and act like kings for a summer second
looking down on the kingdom
running into battle against invisible soldiers
to break through to reach home
where there’s a bush with some berries
by the picket fence and an ant hill
I ate five
you a handful
back then…
back before supper
Hey everyone,
You know how I’m always promoting Newfoundland and Labrador in some way, shape, or form, right? Well, I just thought why not share more given it is St. Patty’s Day. It’s a big deal around here, so allow me to showcase some traditional Newfoundland and Labrador music for you. A taste of the music that’s likely being played in every local pub and bar around the island on a day like today. There is no scarcity of people singing at the top of their lungs, playing traditional instruments including the ugly stick(*see below), getting three sheets to the wind and toasting each other with a few too many green beers. I hope you enjoy these traditional tunes, and they should give you a good sense of how deep our Irish roots are. Let me know your favourite and CHEERS!!!
Grey reminds me that I have endured. I have withstood, no matter how raw it has been. How harsh and unforgiving. I look at stormy days as a necessary part of life. A part that teaches you what you are capable of. – Ash
Take a cold hard look, and you’ll feel it. – Ash
Need a break? Go for a walk at night. – Ash
more comfortable
when I walk home in the fog
I recreate it
Discipline cleanses the palate of regret. – Ash
Earth To Ash 