All entries for Saturday 18 October 2008
October 18, 2008
A chair is standing on top of a hill
Approach it now and take a seat, the view
Will change to suit your every childish will.
You look out now at what you never knew
Deep breath, my friend, now tell me what you see:
A myth in landscape, Irish green below
Where trees, between red leaves, set sunlight free
And Cyhiraeth, a druid walks. A crow
In flight draws Celtic filigree above.
In evening peace the sunlight then exhales
To pink/grey clouds. You feel at last the love
For Ireland; for her emerald, primal tales.
Awake, a break, the IRA, a scream
You close your eyes and cling to Ireland’s dream.