A TIME IN HER LIFE Poem by Celia de Fréine

She was attracted to the land -
damp though dry - and to the houses
with their hearths and music,
though there was music in the sea,
strength in the waves,
the coral weed every bit as beautiful
as the globs of heather
that sprouted among the rocks,
or the montbretia that lined the road
on her way to town.

The people made her welcome
and though they knew
that each time she came ashore
she hid her cloak
in a loft or granary
no one tried to take it from her.
Each time she stayed,
she stayed a little longer
knowing a day would come
when she'd have to make a choice -

she could always leave
as long as she had her mantle.
And who'd want to destroy a gift?