tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-125021992011-04-21T13:32:52.110-07:00In bard wireJeanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12495930223189333687noreply@blogger.comBlogger81100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12502199.post-1115213349592393032006-05-04T06:28:00.000-07:002005-06-24T07:14:12.903-07:00Why I called this 'in bard wire'I have been writing on and off all my life, and most recently writing limericks for a celtic rock band over the past year. I have written other things and have just started to post them here...While I wouldn't exactly call a bunch of musicians 'heroes' - the band I write about and for are pretty damn talented...Bard: a poet, especially one who writes impassioned, lyrical, or epic verse. Bards Jeanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12495930223189333687noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12502199.post-1129226229699148112006-05-03T10:51:00.000-07:002005-10-13T10:59:08.686-07:00Explanation...I know I haven't been posting on here - for anybody who reads this, if anybody.(Anybody out there?)Anyhow, I wanted to say that any of the stories that I work on or write are a continual 'work in progress', and it might take me awhile to finish or even add to.Please let me know that you're there, and if you enjoy these or not....Thanks for stopping by....Jeanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12495930223189333687noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12502199.post-1119287903187955172005-05-04T05:08:00.000-07:002005-06-20T10:18:23.196-07:00Toasts I have writtenThese are traditional style Irish toasts that I have penned - best enjoyed with a Guinness!Enjoy!6/20:May you never be lonely or lack for nothing to doMay the storms be at your back and rainbows in front of youMay happiness always fill your soulAnd nourishment overfill your bowlMay the need for coins never shall you askAnd in the warm glow of friendship shall you always baskMay with all your Jeanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12495930223189333687noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12502199.post-1115991268436181062005-05-03T05:57:00.000-07:002005-05-13T11:33:02.090-07:00DreamingWhile I am asleep, at times I do findI tear down the borders at the edge of my mindTime means nothing nor does spaceI go to meet others and with them touch baseI remember talking to those that I knowI sit and I wait for the conversations to flowPeople do greet me, I as do themAnd thoughts do flow from our souls they do stemThe ones that I haven't spoke to for awhileWe will sit and talk, even Jeanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12495930223189333687noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12502199.post-1115069107104557242005-05-02T14:14:00.000-07:002005-05-02T14:25:07.106-07:00heelstepsFootsteps, heels going down the streetPurposeful steps, striding with meaningClack, clack the rhythm is quickI turn to look toward the soundJust a woman walking as if angryNice shoes and pantsGood shirt, I'm sureBut covered up with a crappy jacketHer eyes are set with determinationHer briefcase slung over her shoulderShe looks distracted, as she puffs on her smokeClack clack her feet never stopI Jeanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12495930223189333687noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12502199.post-1117651446779011022005-04-28T10:42:00.000-07:002005-06-02T06:39:39.786-07:00Leaving?"She what?" He looked at his phone in disbelief. No, she couldn't do this..."Yeah, well...thanks for telling me. I owe ya." He shut his phone and looked for his car keys.Running out the door, he looked at his watch. Damn, not much time. She just left for the airport and he was an half an hour away. He thought for a minute, while starting the car.Hmmm, she's forty five minutes away from the Jeanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12495930223189333687noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12502199.post-1115221476103227402005-04-04T08:13:00.000-07:002005-06-16T06:25:23.913-07:00Work in progress...She was nervous as the car pulled up to the shop."Shall I wait miss?"The driver opened the door for her.She thought for a minute."No. Just come back in about a half an hour. Thanks.""Very well."It was extravagant, she knew that, but she splurged a little on the first trip back to her home state in five years.She waited until the driver pulled away and lit a cigarrette.Five years. Seemed like two Jeanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12495930223189333687noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12502199.post-1119631020676234902000-01-01T09:36:00.000-08:002005-06-24T09:37:08.103-07:00Free Website CounterJeanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12495930223189333687noreply@blogger.com0