In the silence of the morning light, The world mourns a soul so bright. Her words, a beacon, fierce and…
In the quiet of the night, your words softly sing, Echoes of love, in every gentle spring. Emily, your heart,…
In fields where the wild grasses grow, The words of Heaney softly flow. His pen, a plough that tills the…
In the quiet of the night, your breath fades away, A gentle soul, now taken by the day. Memories linger…
In the quiet halls where shadows drift, Her whispers linger, soft and swift. A poet’s soul, forever free, In verses…
In the quiet morning light, they rise, Gentle echoes, daughters’ laughter, wise. Their dreams like stars in the twilight skies,…
In the stillness of the evening light, Where shadows dance and whispers fade, A poet’s voice has taken flight, Leaving…
In fields where shadows whisper tales, The echoes of a poet’s voice prevail, Seamus Heaney’s ink, so deep, so frail,…
In fields of emerald, memories unfurl, Her hands, worn yet tender, teach and twirl, Through tales of old, in whispers…