The Ferny Buttercup Path Poem by Bernard Kennedy

Behind the leafy prayer path,
the wooded path enticed
my steps towards ferny pathed ways.
In the evening summer sun,
cooler than the morning dew,
a light was thrown from Knocknarea
as the sun stilled towards a sleepy hue.

A ferny way, with buttercups, grew wild along,
the flowing stream and reverie drew
back fifty years, when swam in youthful run.
A makeshift pool, with diving rocks,
and grassy path of moss made way
and evening sun was natures drying touch.

And further on I came upon,
a sound of cracking bough,
of shaking leaves, resounding down
meadow mown and gathered in,
a pidgeon loose upon the view it shot.
A dale path, a ferny way, led down
the hill to Sligo town by Ladies brae
to rivers end, and megalithic tomb,
of pottered souls divined.
A gated path leads onward, beginning
where the wood ends, where the souls are
drawn, by beauty way, and faeries path,
and eyes that see the whispered form.
And still to hear, in minds eye, and calm way,
the shuffles, brushing feathers in the breeze.