The sun is beaming down on all her children.
I am starting to sweat and being conscious that my skin is turning the pinkish shade of an unripened gobshite, I head for the shade.

I am here in the Royal Hospital Kilmainham as part of Vinyl festival, happy to be expressing at such an event, hoping to catch some of Peggy Seeger’s conversation after I play some song’s in a Baroque chapel.

Stained glass windows and high ceilings. I can open up here and discover how far I might climb.
Arthur Matthews sits in the front rower during my set and I have the urge to down tools and shake his hand.
Speakers and singers, all with their own stories to tell are walking the grounds today. I couldn’t daydream, not for long. A man was Portloaise bound.

I’ve been to Kavanagh’s before with a chap from Donaghmede. It didn’t disappoint then and it wouldn’t let me down now.
Warm bodies filled the room, a comedy club to be exact, a few necessary laughs in between spiels.

My love to all the faces who filled my line of sight.
I’ll sleep like a baby tonight.