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 –

Clonmacnois

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 )