Last night a visitor, Martin J. Byrne presented a poem to Mick Killeen which I assume he had written about Clonmacnois. This is how it goes –
Fallen stones lies ruined about
This gentle hill I rest upon
And gazing from my weary eyes
A gentle river eases by
The land that cradles my fallen King
And whispers sighs …. Of nobler times
Beneath a setting sun and dark blue’d skies.
Behold …. A swan and mate take flight
And to waters edge, alight
With tender touch … and gentle song
In rushes deep … I glimpse their white
As they speak of love … in falling twilight.
( Martin J. Byrne )