Saturday, December 7, 2024

Lush Hills Of Ireland

Lush Hills Of Ireland
© Surazeus
2024 12 07

Lush hills of Ireland shimmer in my dreams 
though I sailed away three centuries ago 
to escape the thief on the prancing horse 
who claimed the land of my fathers as his, 
and though I live four thousand miles west now 
I hear them call me to come home again. 

That misty island in the silver sea 
where my ancestors lived ten thousand years 
has never changed with spinning of the Earth 
though people come and go as swarms of bees 
so strangers claim lush land that long was mine 
where soil is made from my ancestral bones. 

I hear strange music in the silent night, 
heart-leaping luminance of Uillean pipes, 
soul-enchanting radiance of Celtic harps, 
and mind-winding flash of the bright banjo, 
bound by the bodhran drumming wild sea waves, 
eerie melodies in my helpless dreams. 

Wild music of lush flowery fairy glens, 
which sparkle bright with rainbows after showers, 
inspires my heart with energy of love 
to view this world, no matter where I dwell, 
as radiant paradise where magic sprites 
inhabit mortal bodies with star souls. 

Though I left Ireland centuries ago 
wild spirit of her river-flashing vales 
has never left the landscape of my heart, 
so I forever play in fairy land 
our Emerald Isle has mapped into my soul 
with wingless gambol in deep sunlit glades. 

Though I hear Ireland call me to her shores, 
sad spirit of nostalgia haunting me 
with visions of carefree joy in flowered glades, 
I know I cannot ever go backward, 
for I would wander stuck in Neverland 
through endless loop of stuttered misery. 

Instead of backward to that shining isle, 
sweet paradise of long-lost fantasy, 
I must move forward on the signless road 
of rugged fortitude I barely see 
appear before my feet in mirror mist 
with each brave step of faith in destiny. 

Lush hills of Ireland shimmer in my dreams, 
imbuing land where I live now with glamor 
of timeless beauty shining from my heart, 
so this land where I dwell now is my home, 
land where my children play with carefree hope 
in fate they map on their own signless road. 


1 comment:

  1. Orpheus visits lush fairy glen in Ireland where he sits on the Wishing Chair and wishes for Brigit who appears in a wedding gown with a basket of apples.

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