sitting

on an old stone wall

crumbly down

from centuries before

when monks prayed there

offered alms

or buried

the rich and poor

the silence was tangible

beside the ruined monastery

a round tower

shambled too

ivy laden

truncated now

to tiny fragments

battles long gone

beside the Pale

a robin came

to size me up

as a wren

flitted tiny be

amongst the

rambled tower

remains

its such a day

that life

opens up

the soul