Of Lakes and Trees

I wrote two verses last night about Ireland. they were beautiful! Just right for my book. I wish I wouldn't always think of things in bed when I haven't any paper or pen to write them down. Maybe I will remember it if I think hard enough while laying on the same bed. I slept in Kryst's last night.

I also wrote a lovely sequesnce for my book. I can remember that perfectly, thankfully. I'm going to write it down soon, before I forget.

The little peom was in spired after reading a section of "Rilla pf Igleside", where L.M. Montgomery desribes Rainbow Valley by moonlight through the eyes of Walter. That is enough to inspire almost anyone interested to write a peom about scenery. Especially the beautiful Irish landscape I have been researching lately.

It is so beautiful! The grasslands, waving in the wind. Miles of emerald hills dotted with the amythyst of Heather, wafting on the breeze blown through the pale azure of the sky. The verdent coast that ends in stretches of tall rocky cliffs plunging into the see without warning. The white caps of the waves breaking and spraying the sheer rock that rises high above. And oh, the sound of the flowing river as it kicks up her heels to run like a lamb over the stony passage to the sea. As the clear water floats on past the ivy covered ruins of Menlo Castle, it's gray stone crumbling, plinking little pebbles into the stony depths of Galway river as it purges the slopes and hills with fresh water, before changing it's nature in the salty tang of Galway Bay.
The large, red sun as it sets in a splendour of gold and pink, tinting the crystal clouds with crimson and mauve hues that shadow the briliant green Atlantic with dark blue shapes resembling steady oxen grazing the green fields of Mayo.
Dusk sets in and the glowing ball sinks into the ocean leaving blood stains on the blue tide to be washed away by the midnight heavens, flecked with twinkling sliver asters. The moon rises shedding floods of pearlescant light over the calm of evening and the birds sing their tweet of farewell to sunshine till dawn appears, all the more glorious for her short absence.
Can you feel the wind in your hair, the sounds of sheep bleating contentedly as they chew the tall grass and stomp the purple stalks releasing their fragrance. Can you smell the fair odor as it lists by you breathlesly through the air. Does not your heart pound with love for God and his magnificant eye for beauty? Does not your soul respond to the blessing He has given to us through His wonderful creation? The galaxies, the universe studed with the planets. Mars' red dot in the bright display of astronomical reverence. The rings of ice that circle Saturn's enourmous breadth.
Do you not belive they were made in Uni verso? A single supernatural sentence from the mouth of the Creator.

Now, what am I going to do with that? I almost think my adjectives are running out! I think I can really go now and write that poem.