Small Mercies – Fayte Returneth

They mowed the banks of the stream where I thought I lost my glasses. On a hunch I searched again. And found them. They had been run over by the lawn mower. But the blades missed them. Luckily the frame is bendy/indestructible. I just had to straighten the nose thingies and put the lenses back in, and give them a good wash.

About Uisce úr

Though I am old with wandering Through hollow lands and hilly lands, I will find out where she has gone, And kiss her lips and take her hands; And walk among long dappled grass, And pluck till time and times are done, The silver apples of the moon, The golden apples of the sun.
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