Like an epiphany of unexpected grace,
I find much beauty in a lovely freckled face.
She may be Russian, she may be French,
she may live in a glen, or near a stone bench.
A work of art the master defines,
she may be a princess in one of our minds-
For I am not ashamed, I’ll freely admit,
I’d rather look at freckles, than freely submit
to a life with no spots, to a life with no form,
or no interesting patch of freckled decorum.
so far I will travel, so far will I roam
and hunt for the elusive, even far from my home,
But one day I’ll find her, and one day she’ll find me
freckled Scottish or Irish, or a wench from the sea…
So if you don’t mind, Friend, if you don’t care,
I’ll hang out my shingle, for one who looks fair.
O, but first…
she must be loving, kind, compassionate, tenderhearted…
of course.
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About thelostkerryman
Thelostkerryman is an author, entrepreneur, and disciple- this side of Tir Na N'Og- living in the forests of a consistently confused country.
Here in this hill country, hurling doesn't usually involve a hurley, store-made soda bread resembles an inedible Irish megalith, and Kerrygold is only found hidden like a luck penny in the belly of Kroger.
This blog is an account of his adventures, thoughts, eclectic -and eccentric- ramblings, random or insightful poetry, humor and non-humor, pictures (photos), video, essays, fiction, poetic fiction, nonfiction, drama, and writing he has not classified in the description above.
All of my posts, thelostkerryman.wordpress.com, everydayasadisciple.wordpress.com, and mrandmrsboring.wordpress.com are copywrited according to international copywrite law.
I will keep my eyes out for a fair freckled maiden for you, Daithi. ~ Lily