Still packing a punch
like a veteran boxer.
Just a little nuts.
Still packing a punch
like a veteran boxer.
Just a little nuts.
An orange sun sets
behind the forest. Can you
hear the beat of wings?
James Joyce drank white wine,
and Samuel Beckett Bushmills,
to weep wondrous words.
Winter solstice dram.
The old spirit at New Year
will lengthen the days.
The Beast of Dufftown
captured and feasted upon.
Smoked ham on brown toast.
A new liberty
emerges from the old town.
Whiskey’s coming home.
Whisky for breakfast.
Scotland needs some climate change.
It’s snowing in June.
Une parte de bonheur –
an Irishman in Paris.
À votre santé!
We stayed out too late.
Knickers fly across the room.
Vanilla cuddles.
A dram with cricket?
Sticky day. The wicket seeks
Orcadian rain.