Your Poetry Dot Com - Gentleman In Ireland

I passed over rugged majestic mountains
in the breeze following back roads below,
there, I found a sparkling lake of beauty
it was peaceful, so soothing you know

I noticed the time; it was not quite noon
then I saw by that lake this man,
who was standing, as if he was waiting
a most beautiful gentleman in Ireland

I am not a young lass and I will never forget
how his fingers combed my fiery tresses,
or how those soft winds blew that day
sending me his lovely soft kisses

My mind tugs the walls of my heart
as I listen to that old Irish tune,
the one we danced a jig to, by that lake
underneath that silvery moon

Those birds we heard, did not sing
they cried as we held each other near,
Oh, but we felt as if we were intoxicated
drinking pure whiskey and good beer

Its’ been many years ago since we met
near that beautiful lake, our paradise,
I had said, “good morning sir, how are you today?”
He had said, “I feel the same as you!” not once, but twice

And again I had said, “sir, good morning sir!”
And after that, he had said, “Do you know I already love you?”
I stood there laughing inwardly, I was a bit nervous
“You do not sir!” He said, “Oh, yes I do!”

I will always see him standing there
and as the sun goes down I ache,
when I stare deeply into those memories
of that handsome man down by that lake

The blue skies, they started to twinkle
And as we held each other tight,
we sailed along kissing and mixing
our newfound love with that moonlight

I still paint pictures in my mind
he was the greatest lover,
he was my “good morning” sir
I cry yes; he, I am glad I did discover

My soul still gets intoxicated
as I sing that old Irish tune,
but I don’t drink beer or whiskey
and he didn’t either, under that moon

I keep directing my eyes to that lake
recalling how calm it was,
and then I see our boat sinking
and the moon light shifts, yes it does

A Mysterious dark cloud may fall in me
and the lake may pour from my tear gland,
but there is nowhere in this world
that fascinates me more, than that gentleman in Ireland

I will survive; there is no doubt
as I explore these memories,
and I’ll proceed to drive over those…
majestic mountains, in that breeze

I trust I’ll find another hidden lake
But, I must stop dreaming today,
And go out to cut, bale, and store
down in this valley, that sweet, sweet hay

Before another dark cloud falls suddenly…

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