"Donegal Abbey":
Sacred Scribes soul-searching
the riddle of the chronicles
sagas of time and epochs
like loyal servants of learning;
four masters huddled to truth:
the scroll of the hollowed heart
seasoned by scholars in lonely craft
- the perpetual plough of Annals words!
Exalted quills, quenched dry parchments,
the ink whose flow ne'er parched;
annals embossed in zealous surge:
four monks in a labour of love
of acts, deeds, paths, like shoulders straight
- their lineage signed in brotherhood.
Oh golden age of Michael O'Cleirigh
sweet abode where Annals were born!
August abbey of the Four Masters
you stand like a Knight of our heritage!
2003
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
''The most photographed Dolmen in Ireland''
"Poulnabrone Dolmen":
Immortal resident of the Burren earth
complex stones of unbroken time
with Capstone of downhill slope
for Sun to ski and reflect;
What stars draped you at birth
when dawn was nymph-new
and twilight's trance waltzed in?
Poulnabrone Dolmen an unbroken stem
in a glitter of Burren limestone
No tenant dweller encamped there
but time's perpetual aeons danced bright
as a rugged legionnaire!
Your story is a canopy of stone
from Neolithic farmer, the Fir Bolg,
to Milesian, Danaan and Gael.
Ancient treasure on a mystic's plain
a fire brand on a rugged carpet
Portal Tomb like a defiant bone
impaled on the bare Burren;
What enigma's fire ignite
from the matching of your stones
A bridge to a different time
or a world past Heaven's horizon?
Oh energy source vibrating there
you illuminate the Burren of Clare!
August 2003
Immortal resident of the Burren earth
complex stones of unbroken time
with Capstone of downhill slope
for Sun to ski and reflect;
What stars draped you at birth
when dawn was nymph-new
and twilight's trance waltzed in?
Poulnabrone Dolmen an unbroken stem
in a glitter of Burren limestone
No tenant dweller encamped there
but time's perpetual aeons danced bright
as a rugged legionnaire!
Your story is a canopy of stone
from Neolithic farmer, the Fir Bolg,
to Milesian, Danaan and Gael.
Ancient treasure on a mystic's plain
a fire brand on a rugged carpet
Portal Tomb like a defiant bone
impaled on the bare Burren;
What enigma's fire ignite
from the matching of your stones
A bridge to a different time
or a world past Heaven's horizon?
Oh energy source vibrating there
you illuminate the Burren of Clare!
August 2003
''Dollymount Strand - the apex of Dublin Bay''
The sea from Dollymount Strand
The mystic clamour of creation
is in the onrushing tide
it is a din that gently curves
the soul of man wisely chides;
'tis where the ancient Irish kind
is pressing near its force
when primordial waters flowed
and from whence all life its course,
was shaped and shone as one;
the onward rhythm of each
timed and measured surge -
a metaphor for the quest of man,
the riddle of the pirate's purge
which braves the dirge and clan.
A giant chasm its heart opens
for the world o' free living
part soul mother of creation
and cruel destroyer in its giving;
all winsome waves and crashing bolts,
under moody skies forgiving;
can charm like Summer's colts
the pauper's mind in dark moon's feast,
or take life at its command -
a giant cavern with voice fleeced:
its complex heart like open hand;
a confessor to the crowd
message combing its deep secrets;
the sea breaks out of its mystic shroud
with baffling waves dexterity
its soul empties for posterity!
13/9/2002
The mystic clamour of creation
is in the onrushing tide
it is a din that gently curves
the soul of man wisely chides;
'tis where the ancient Irish kind
is pressing near its force
when primordial waters flowed
and from whence all life its course,
was shaped and shone as one;
the onward rhythm of each
timed and measured surge -
a metaphor for the quest of man,
the riddle of the pirate's purge
which braves the dirge and clan.
A giant chasm its heart opens
for the world o' free living
part soul mother of creation
and cruel destroyer in its giving;
all winsome waves and crashing bolts,
under moody skies forgiving;
can charm like Summer's colts
the pauper's mind in dark moon's feast,
or take life at its command -
a giant cavern with voice fleeced:
its complex heart like open hand;
a confessor to the crowd
message combing its deep secrets;
the sea breaks out of its mystic shroud
with baffling waves dexterity
its soul empties for posterity!
13/9/2002
''The Aran Islands and JM Synge''
"The Well of the Saints":
Wishing wells and Druids spells
and land of milk and honey,
led by Atlantic's tolling bells
and Pilgrim's way flat and stony;
tasted I Synge's literary shells
and passed the Well of Saints:
the four Saints of the swell -
Celtic runes do not taint;
paid their dues at the holy well -
windy sighs have restraint.
So my face cleansed in the well
with water pure, clear and quaint;
a riverbank of hope in the dell
servant renewed from cloud's constraint
and the prosaic tides carousel;
so prayed I at Aran's grotto
and took a stone for love's memento.....
Footnote: The Well of the Saints is a Holy Well on the largest of the Aran Islands, Inis Mor, which has great connections with Ireland's fine playwright, JM Synge (perhaps one of the 20th century's finest dramatists). It is a beautiful well, at which I felt totally renewed after visiting it!
Wishing wells and Druids spells
and land of milk and honey,
led by Atlantic's tolling bells
and Pilgrim's way flat and stony;
tasted I Synge's literary shells
and passed the Well of Saints:
the four Saints of the swell -
Celtic runes do not taint;
paid their dues at the holy well -
windy sighs have restraint.
So my face cleansed in the well
with water pure, clear and quaint;
a riverbank of hope in the dell
servant renewed from cloud's constraint
and the prosaic tides carousel;
so prayed I at Aran's grotto
and took a stone for love's memento.....
Footnote: The Well of the Saints is a Holy Well on the largest of the Aran Islands, Inis Mor, which has great connections with Ireland's fine playwright, JM Synge (perhaps one of the 20th century's finest dramatists). It is a beautiful well, at which I felt totally renewed after visiting it!
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
''Glendalough: idyllic panoplies''
One of the most enchanting places in Ireland is surely Glendalough, Co Wicklow - part of the county known as the 'Garden of Ireland.' Nestled between some of the Wicklow mountains and part of the Wicklow national park, like an intersection or galactic epicentre, with its ornate centrepiece being undoubtedly the lake itself. For tranquility, special energy, panoramic vistas of immense beauty, the place could claim to rival any courter of the muses! And is thus an extremely pleasant 'get away' from the turgidity of modern living.
But the history of the place is perhaps what it's best known for: established by St Kevin in the 6th century as a monastic settlement - subsequently city - as a refuge or bastion of solitude away from the encroaching and wily ways of the material world, it was his chosen place - a type of otherworld for temporal dreams and visions. From such a small and humble beginning, it flowered into one of the most important Ecclesiastical and monastic sites of Ireland and today is one of her great totems of heritage and tourist attractions!
The college was particularly important, with the city that sprung up, enclosing around seven churches and hence there were seven churches to be seen. Still to be seen is the majestic Round Tower, the one here rising like a great pencil to the sky.
It also has an infinite number of walks, hikes for the nature lover and an abundance of wildlife, birds, that will astound you and when leaving, will render you totally crestfallen at departing from the place where St Kevin touched the heavens!
"At Glendalough, my senses take fire"
At Glendalough drowns delirium
in enchantment of the senses
nature's sacred emporium
its spring of hope, nerve tenses,
muses of the monastic forum,
like handshakes recompense
Where Kevin on its pebbles
stumbled 'pon great boulders,
the sun's reflection on cobbles
the lake's shadow it solders;
of solitude life's utopia:
Evergreen, Hazel, Oak, Alder,
spirit, solace, virtue, cornucopia!
Glendalough your drowning dispenses
in soft elopements, foam fresh,
as harmony's gourd condenses
in a gentle greeting in the flesh;
poetic suns, pale russets,
birds in summers sweetest feis;
3D vistas cinematic assets:
Thrush, Sparrow, Chaffinch, Lark,
and wildlife like the Buzzard;
Wicklow's mountains, Ireland's green park,
betwixt the Faery Witch and wizard
in the Glen casts away feelings dark
Oh Glendalough I bid you hark!
But the history of the place is perhaps what it's best known for: established by St Kevin in the 6th century as a monastic settlement - subsequently city - as a refuge or bastion of solitude away from the encroaching and wily ways of the material world, it was his chosen place - a type of otherworld for temporal dreams and visions. From such a small and humble beginning, it flowered into one of the most important Ecclesiastical and monastic sites of Ireland and today is one of her great totems of heritage and tourist attractions!
The college was particularly important, with the city that sprung up, enclosing around seven churches and hence there were seven churches to be seen. Still to be seen is the majestic Round Tower, the one here rising like a great pencil to the sky.
It also has an infinite number of walks, hikes for the nature lover and an abundance of wildlife, birds, that will astound you and when leaving, will render you totally crestfallen at departing from the place where St Kevin touched the heavens!
"At Glendalough, my senses take fire"
At Glendalough drowns delirium
in enchantment of the senses
nature's sacred emporium
its spring of hope, nerve tenses,
muses of the monastic forum,
like handshakes recompense
Where Kevin on its pebbles
stumbled 'pon great boulders,
the sun's reflection on cobbles
the lake's shadow it solders;
of solitude life's utopia:
Evergreen, Hazel, Oak, Alder,
spirit, solace, virtue, cornucopia!
Glendalough your drowning dispenses
in soft elopements, foam fresh,
as harmony's gourd condenses
in a gentle greeting in the flesh;
poetic suns, pale russets,
birds in summers sweetest feis;
3D vistas cinematic assets:
Thrush, Sparrow, Chaffinch, Lark,
and wildlife like the Buzzard;
Wicklow's mountains, Ireland's green park,
betwixt the Faery Witch and wizard
in the Glen casts away feelings dark
Oh Glendalough I bid you hark!
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