Irish Eyes
It's often said that the eys are the windows of one's soul; It's quite true. My Irish Eyes are the windows to my Irish Soul.
My Irish Soul is tough as the Gaelic language, still alive after eight hundred Anglophone years. My Irish Soul is loving like the Good Lord himself, eternally blessing the ones who crucified him. My Irish Soul is proud as the spires of Our Lady Assumed into Heaven and Saint Nicholas, daring Anglicans to enter.
And from My Irish Soul eminates a light which dances in My Irish Eyes. The light says, "Labhaireadh sé mo seanathair Gaelige, Labhaireann sé mo croí Gaelige." "My grandfather spoke Gaelic, My heart speaks Gaelic."
With voices resounding and Gaelic echoing in the halls of My Irish Heart, My Irish Eyes turn a tiny phrase. In cunning quietness they say, "Is tú mo ghra." "I love you." And Irish Ears are tickled as Irish Lips smile at Little Irish Endearments.
My Irish Soul is tough as the Gaelic language, still alive after eight hundred Anglophone years. My Irish Soul is loving like the Good Lord himself, eternally blessing the ones who crucified him. My Irish Soul is proud as the spires of Our Lady Assumed into Heaven and Saint Nicholas, daring Anglicans to enter.
And from My Irish Soul eminates a light which dances in My Irish Eyes. The light says, "Labhaireadh sé mo seanathair Gaelige, Labhaireann sé mo croí Gaelige." "My grandfather spoke Gaelic, My heart speaks Gaelic."
With voices resounding and Gaelic echoing in the halls of My Irish Heart, My Irish Eyes turn a tiny phrase. In cunning quietness they say, "Is tú mo ghra." "I love you." And Irish Ears are tickled as Irish Lips smile at Little Irish Endearments.
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I absolutely ADORE Allison for inspiring this poem (: