'His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly...' James Joyce
He's gorgeous, galloping about the country
posing as gentry, proud on his horse
as it trots through Galloway. Grudge is a sin
on his gauge of good and evil. He grants
only oaths of Gosh and Golly to pass his lips.
He's great, he's grand is Gabriel.
He will pass through a gap, after death,
into the Garden .His essence will plant
new seeds on the stony ground of poetry.