'Bastian Devareaux

Il y a des incididents dune minute qui font plus qu'une cour dune annee. There are minute-long incidents that do more than a year's flirtation. ~ A. Dumas

pieces of eight

Never interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake. ~ Napoleon Bonaparte

Old Maid

capstan

Childhood is a strange country. It's a place you come from or go to - at least in your mind. For me it has an endless, spellbound something in it that feels remote. It's like a little sealed vault country of cake breath and grass stains, where what you do instead of work is spin until you're dizzy... ~ Lyall Bush

sage

The effect of liberty to individuals is that they may do what they please; we ought to see what it will please them to do, before we risk congratulations. ~ Edmund Burke

Trinity ( Love, Loyalty & Friendship)

( Pleased that it pleased. Another, perhaps? ) tagh do chomhluadar ma'n tagh thu do dheoch. Choose your company before you choose your drink. ~ Irish proverb

Na toir breith air reir coltais faodaidh cridh beartach a bhi fo chota bochd. Do not judge by appearences, a rich heart may be under a poor coat. ~ Irish Proverb

To my best friend, through the thick and the thin...From a Burke to a Mullen!! Here's to you, me bully boyo!! The Roman roads run outward from the city on the hills, And Holland's roads will take you by gaily painted mills, Small pathways of the East will lead to China's ancient wall-- But the little roads of Ireland are the loveliest of all. In Normandy small roadways through flowering orchards run, The ancient roads of Syria flash under shining sun, And winding beauty lingers where the Rhine and Danube roll-- But the little roads of Ireland entwine around your soul. From Dublin Bay to Galway, from Cork to Derry town, From Antrim to Killarney, they ramble up and down: And though you are ten thousand miles from where they twist and wind, The little roads of Ireland stay forever on your mind. katherine Edelman

Four Fields

Glenstal Abbey (County Limerick )

The desire to regain peaceful repose was strong, as well as taunting. Former state was dodging and fleet in its' doing; a fact that did well to further aggravate Irish character traits. Giving in to defeat, Calico companion was bestowed small scratching of affectionate means, as once again he found himself on back entrance stoop. Time was taken to breath deep the qualities of salt laden air; its' smell and heaviness something Burke had called friend since his birthing. Door was secured, mount obtained though he chose to walk and lead versus ride. These were the quiet hours of the day, a time when the flavors and denizens of local were still mostly hidden away. Brim was tugged forward and down to hamper the smallish flashes of sunlight seeking caress of sights as streets were navigated without conscious thought. Reaching a stretch of coastal range, he paused to take in the gathering of fisher folk preparing for outing. The area was flurry of eased conversation and the sounds of labor's effort. Perched upon upturned barrel, a fisherman's daughter worked steadfast the task of net mend; pausing at Devon's arrival with a smile. "Tis a bit early to see ye abouts, Devon Burke." "Well now, gerl..." he smiled warmly in return." True as true is, it was me cravin's to see yer beauty baskin' in the golden light o' dawn tha' found me here." Setting the net down and eyeing the other quiziclly, Maggie Fitzpatrick stiffled a laugh. "Now there ye go on, bigh....Tis trut' tha' if it were ye an' aul Scratch in'na battle of silvered tongue, I don' know where wager should be placed regardin' the winnin'." Mount was tied off and another barrel obtained for seating. He reached for net, and she handed it over appreciatively. Ingrained practice set hands to motion, nimble and precise each movement a showing of old family tradition. In some ways, it was an easing of the soul; a meditation that cleared his thoughts and she was quite comfortable to allow the silence. It went on this way for a passing of time; the net steadily returning to whole state; he humming quietly a song of the Auld Sod, she watching his actions. Final knotting was carefully placed as he glanced sidelong to companion; who, in turn, blushed as his eyes caught her own. "Ye keep hangin' abou', ye'll find yerself back in'na doin's." She chided. "Aye." Burke nodded. "Yer Da an' brothers will try an' make me an honest man."

Well-timed silence hath more eloquence than speech. ~ M. Tupper

Ohio

Be not afraid of greatness. Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon 'em. ~ The Bard

James III

phantoms

You are most welcome.

Bravo et magnifique, Cheeks!!! Quite a prime job, indeed!! And it is oh so French! Do make sure that next time we meet that you bring that along....Though I do guess I should tailor another coat that is more befitting in hue when next to that flow of silk. Falicitations on your latest composition.!!

If every fool were crowned, the majority of the population would be kings. ~ Edward Young

prism

It was insistent cockerel crow in some alley by-way that brought disgruntled crease to young Irish forehead. The next sounding heralded change of body position on divan and protest from feline lamprey. What was once comfortable human mattress played traitor, and bookstore cat settled on flooring with snide disapproval glinting amber eyes. Thrice did morning trumpeter sound; and third time was truly the charm. Raising slightly on cushioned surface, Devon muttered a parade of Gaelic curses not fit for the ears of Clergy or Innocents. The fourth chiming of Alley Antagonist brought upright posturing and louder proclamations of native soil. Companions glanced to one another briefly; feline breaking away to attend proper grooming. As fifth sounding shattered the still, object was taken in hand from nearby table and waiting commenced for the call of Six. And Six did sally forth, as the Five before had so boldly rung. Rear entrance was achieved with steadfast concentration, doorway opened with greatened care.... And there! In archway's loom, stood He that could and would raise the Dead. Bare-footed step gained cobbles below and for a spinning of Infinity, Protagonist and Antagonist seemed to measure each other. It was a smallish laps of time that held in its' clutch Eternity and the balance of Universe sway. Object in possession was leveled at arm's length; a smile of satisfaction graced Celtic features... A roar of manmade thunder further insulted the morning hush... And when the powder smoke cleared... Near surround was a tempest of multi-hued feathers. Devon gave nod of vindication.