Irish Eyes

For my handsome husband and little laddie:

When Irish eyes are smiling,
Sure, 'tis like the morn in Spring.
In the lilt of Irish laughter
You can hear the angels sing.
When Irish hearts are happy,
All the world seems bright and gay.
And when Irish eyes are smiling,
Sure, they steal your heart away. 


There's a tear in your eye,
And I'm wondering why,
For it never should be there at all.
With such pow'r in your smile,
Sure a stone you'd beguile,
So there's never a teardrop should fall.
When your sweet lilting laughter's
Like some fairy song,
And your eyes twinkle bright as can be;
You should laugh all the while
And all other times smile,
And now, smile a smile for me.

When Irish eyes are smiling,
Sure, 'tis like the morn in Spring.
In the lilt of Irish laughter
You can hear the angels sing.
When Irish hearts are happy,
All the world seems bright and gay.
And when Irish eyes are smiling,
Sure, they steal your heart away. 

For your smile is a part
Of the love in your heart,
And it makes even sunshine more bright.
Like the linnet's sweet song,
Crooning all the day long,
Comes your laughter and light.
For the springtime of life
Is the sweetest of all
There is ne'er a real care or regret;
And while springtime is ours
Throughout all of youth's hours,
Let us smile each chance we get.

Lullaby, Take One

I love the sleepy day after a day of work.  I got some chores done, but I just cherish snuggling with my little baby after a day apart.  There were a couple days last week when he was really fighting sleep and my mind started thinking in Dr. Seuss rhymes as I tried to get him to sleep.  I shared this with Josh the next day, he put it to music, and I think we have the beginnings of a  lullaby.  Tell me what you think:

O Lord, bless my sweet child,
a night without fears,
And guardian angels,
hovering near,

To keep far at bay,
The woes of the night,
And speckle sweet dreams,
with beauty and joy and light.

Coal Mine

Josh got sent out to the Usabeli coal mines today.  All I can think of is this song:

Some girls like them gussied up
Wearing all that smelly stuff...
Don't want no white-collared man
Me, I like them calloused hands
...Sara Evans