Jason takes a tumble….

Yesterday evening I was taking a rest, strolling around The Shire, placing bets on fat hobbits racing, returning spoiled pies and generally enjoying myself in a lazy half assed kind of way.

The scenery in The Shire is stunning and due to the lack of anything dangerous it is usually a nice place to spend an hour fishing and performing minor quests.

One of my favoured fishing spots in Hobbiton.

Now I’m not sure if someone slipped a dodgy toadstool into one of my packs but all of a sudden and without warning everything changed!

Trippy trees

Floating faces

All very strange and I swear I’ll never eat another mushroom stew unless I pick the the mushrooms myself.

Luckily “Alt-Tab” rectified the problem and everything returned to normal.

Back to normality (kind of anyways)

IMG_0344, originally uploaded by Jason O’Leary.

A born performer?

The Faeries came again last night.

They took me out to dance.

Around the silver birch we went,

Beneath the moon we pranced.

They asked me if I’ll leave this world.

I said ‘when I have done’.

They told me I could live with them,

Beneath that other sun.

They have a land both far and near.

Where dreams they can come true.

Deep within I long to see that land,

Do you feel that longing too?

If I’d never seen the dream in your eyes.

If I’d never walked the path of your smile.

Then my eyes would hold no dream at all.

My feet would walk a path of sorrow.

Don’t bury me down

Under the ground.

Left to rot in darkness.

Rather, burn my husk,

In the morn or at dusk.

So my soul may travel onwards.

Neither weep nor keen,

or cry my name.

Least sorrow shroud my passing.

Rather raise a glass,

To times gone past.

In the Otherlands I’ll hear you laughing.

A cow, stood on the hillside.

The fiery sun sank behind it.

The beauty of the moment struck me deeply.

I looked the cow in the eye, as

Something passed between us,

And called it lunch.

Some terrible poetry to go with my equally terrible prose.  As I have quite my course, deciding not to study for the moment, I felt I should sit down and try to write a little bit everyday.

So here is a little bit;

As the poor politicians, snuggled deep in their sleep

A terrible monster to their houses did creep

It stole all the money and drank all the oil

It ate all the food, or caused it to spoil.

It laid waste to markets and houses and jobs,

Leaving us nothing but politicians sobs

As they awoke to the fact that their dreams were just that.

They cried for the dreams on which the monster had shat!

Bad hair day…, originally uploaded by Jason O’Leary.

Jason