Tura Lura Lura (It's an Irish Lullaby)
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Emmett Larken
I was all healed by the end of my first month off. I couldn't stand being at home a minute longer, but I still had a little less than a month of medical leave left. I needed to go to work. I mean, I didn't mind spending time with my mom and Ella and the never ending parade of Ella's relatives that were in and out of our apartment. I just wanted peace. I just wanted to lay on the couch with Ella and cuddle with her and kiss her and ask her to marry me for the billionth time.
But I can't because her father's and four brothers will beat me with a stick and pop my stitches because they think that just because we're living together, we've... ya' know. We haven't. I've told them that before, and they don't seem to get that. But they're learning slowly.
I was lying in bed with Ella using my chest as a pillow. I was flat on my back and staring at the ceiling. It was four-thirty a.m. and I couldn't sleep. I had carefully hidden the velvet box in my nightstand and prayed that Imogen or Mom or Ella hadn't gone through it. Around ten I would head back down to our hometown to drop her off and make a quick pit stop to see Ella's dad. I wanted to ask their permission for her hand in marriage. It was almost her winter break and I would be going back to work right after Thanksgiving, so I needed their permission quickly.
"Emmett," Ella mumbled, squeezing my sides. "Why are you awake?"
"Sorry, Sweetheart. I couldn't sleep, I was thinking." I whispered, stroking her hair. "Go back to sleep. You have school in the morning."
Ella groaned and burried her face in my chest. "Don't remind me. I wish I could spend the day in bed with you."
"Two more weeks, Ella, and then you have a month off." I reminded her. She nodded and tangled her legs with mine.
"You want me to sing you a lullaby?" She whispered. I shook my head.
"No, but I'll sing you one." I whispered. She nodded and got comfortable.
"Over in Killarney,
Many years ago,
Me mither sang a song to me
In tones so sweet and low.
Just a simple little ditty,
In her good ould Irish way,
And I'd give the world if she could sing
That song to me this day.
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral,
Too-ra-loo-ra-li,
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral,
Hush, now don't you cry!
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral,
Too-ra-loo-ra-li,
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral,
That's an Irish lullaby.
Oft, in dreams I wander
To that cot again,
I feel her arms a huggin' me
As when she held me then.
And I hear her voice a humin'
To me as in days or yore,
When she used to rock me fast asleep
Outside the cabin door.
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral,
Too-ra-loo-ra-li,
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral,
Hush, now don't you cry!
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral,
Too-ra-loo-ra-li,
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral,
That's an Irish lullaby."
YOU ARE READING
The Girl in the Music Shop
Teen FictionI felt a hand brush my thigh, pulling me out of my dazed state. I looked at the handsome boy and instantly recognized him; he was that Larken boy. The one Papa said to stay away from. But there was something about him that made me want to stay close...
