He could spin a good story,
That fellow.
He could make you believe
There were fairies.
Convince you that things
were not just as you thought.
Suck you in,
Wrap you round.
Make a net with his words.
'Til you felt yourself dizzy
and losing perspective.
Believing his line
With it's hook
and it's bait.
And the further you fell
For the twinkling words
The closer you came
To believing the lies.
Aye, he had a grand way
with a story.
Lovely and mischievous. :-)
ReplyDeletePearl
Nice character study and very hard to read without an accent - I hear a soft one like Southern Ireland or the Scottish Borders.
ReplyDeleteLove this poem! Genius!
ReplyDeleteWell with the situation in the beloved country...I wasn't sure how the comments might be. So thankyou for your encouragement. I'm told that we are an oral tradition, so we wouldn't expect anything less that a palaverer. Would we! I've known a few in my day and very entertaining they are may I say!
ReplyDeleteI love your artwork!
ReplyDeleteyou are so talented!
congratulations and grt from Spain
Lovely, Gerry! Well done.
ReplyDeleteHi Ganeida...one for your celtic heart!
ReplyDeletebicocacolors...hi and thankyou for visiting the post, and for your kind words. I have looked at your blog and I'm blown away by your photos. wonderful.
That's a fantastic figure. And the poems that "he could make you believe there were fairies"! what a grand way with a poem!
ReplyDeleteGrethe ´)
Love the beachwork bull. And by crikey there's a deal of 'Bull' over here at the moment!
ReplyDeleteGreat poem too!