Amos Greig Biography

Steel capped icebergs' pierce the sky.
In artificial towers
Rapunzels refused to let down their hair,
Satisfied to watch the tired and hungry
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Sheltered field of pleasant green
The susurrus of distant wind,

Nature gossips
Protests at intrusion,
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Faceless streets close in around, as corridors seem to stretch into infinity,
A burst of adrenaline and the heart seems to beat irregularly a small bird
Desperate to escape the cage. The flight of logic begins as images blur into
Chaotic thoughts.-
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Urban concrete jungle
In the twilight hours
This is where the lost boys are.
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Scaraveen,
Changing weather
That is the best description of Irish weather.
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