Young Irish woman,
fire red hair


strolled through the bar pretending not to be
watched by everyone 


She of the bright green eyes,
wicked smile, pink knees


If you listened,  you could hear: 


her temper,  matchstick sharp, 
her laughter,  a lilting melody 


No one dared take a picture,
lesser mythical creatures,  the same

Log in or register to write something here or to contact authors.