Irish Eyes

Oh, sing me a story of sweetness and wine.

Sing me a glimmer of light.

Sing me a tune of your goodness and love.

Sing me a ballad of right.

A dream for my resting, a dream for my sleep.

A quiet caress for my cares.

A whisper of hope while I'm hunting alone.

That good happens for someone who dares.

Oh, lady of magic, your aura intrigues,

When, in passing, I glimpse your sweet eyes.

But you tell me no secrets in your gentle words,

Though I'm grateful you tell me no lies.

A bard writes the lore of which legends are made,

In his songs, and the memories he'll keep.

But my dreams fall to ash 'neath incredible lash,

O'er the eyes,that intrude on my sleep.

So it's better, for this, I'll find nothing amiss,

When you glide softly past, in my sight.

For the ancients would say, I must dream for today.

Not the yesterdays filling my night.