Green as Harp tones in the spring
Liquid and soft like water spilling over the rim
Grey cloud castles dissolve in mild vapour
Or shatter drops on the fields
Languor settles as pebbles rush and heave.
Sea and earth meet
As rainbows splitter the iridescence
Tasting salt and sweet but
Enveloping the hills in golden mist.
Fables and fairies thrive
From tiny cobbler to howling banshee.
Stone crosses grow on mossy banks
Overlooking abandoned farms
But rich in history and hardships endured
True to destiny, defiant in despair
Never submitting to fate or distress
Glorious past and uncertain future
Affect the hearts and strengthen the minds.
Sound the Bodhrán and let the fiddle sing
Fleet feet will dance in the streets