Celtic Tea Poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
Celtic Tea
Lutes from the forest's heart
Seagulls fly the ancient shore
Hills as green as magic emeralds
Cliffs looking over the mystic
Valley's, groves, meadows
Winds sing with the joy of elves
I feel the spirits of ancestry
They hover like the fog
Atlantic Ocean mist
Defined by living myth
Stones that built fortresses
Poetry, songs, limericks
I drink my Celtic Tea
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4/20/2024 10:53:13 AM # 1.0.0.1119
