“Like pirates off your shores of waste
our kiss you can forget

a newborn sense of smell and taste

for things you’ve never met

our nose no longer knows the heel of

give it more and give it faster

our pleasures still retain their feel for honor is their master

three winds fill the sails of my sisters and my brothers

grace from beyond, scorn from behind,

and love for each other.”

Ballydowse Sails