Things I love… No.
Spring
To speak of spring when a heavy blanket of snow is still covering the ground might seem like wishful thinking but believe me, being Irish, since St.
The Sunlight on the Garden
Louis Macneice
The sunlight on the garden
Hardens and grows cold,
We cannot cage the minute
Within its nets of gold;
When all is told
We cannot beg for pardon.
Things I love… No.