Walking The Wicklow Hills Poem by Erin O'NeillBerg

Walking The Wicklow Hills



Breezes of the ages whisper through the pines
While crystal droplets join in flow and tumble
Over the jagged edges and under the timeworn turf
Scented by the purple haze through fine mist and fog.

Stretching the eye and thought far and away through time,
The lonely beauty curls around the heart and nestles close
With hills and vales beckoning the spirit to come and share
When the wind has gone where its wildness hides.

The forty shades wander and wave round their stony enclosures
While the flash and streak of white and grey gallops away
And the small wooly bodies stroll and munch by the roadside
With gracefully careless concern and a mindless manner.


Lush forests quiet and dark stand like the guards of the night
As stars twinkle down their endless delight hidden
By curtains of soft grey sky-veils, as the small ones tread softly
Over pillows of green towards the safe embrace of home.

(County Wicklow, Ireland - August 2005)

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Erin O'NeillBerg

Erin O'NeillBerg

Toronto, Canada
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