Where else could we worship but in chapels of rippling redwood heaven bound shafts, quiescent lifting our unquenchable praise of awe? Which bed could...
Dare you stand toe-edged above eternal drop poised perfection as frozen fire crown centred to heaven soles glued to grassy earth a rod of steel sure...
These waiting hills empty now but for the shriek of chill winds this bleakness of dung brown Wicklow rock undulating heavy with the weight of ancient...