Anna Cottage

Drops of pure

Spring sparkling water

that runs from the Mountains

that the raindrops pour into

Pure cyrstal clear

water that shines

how fresh

how sweet

to the lips

Like the pure Blood

that runs from the wrists

not cut across

but cut down

Pure Blood

that runs

and one starts

to sleep

Pure Blood

like the crystal clear

sparkling water

runs and runs

As one sleeps

and sleeps

Reminds me of fetching Spring water from my Nana’s Spring in Ireland in the 1950’s, happier times.

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