Clontarf Poem by John Molloy

An early start to catch the worm
a golden day to fill,
Not far to see the heron - still;
Stiletto poised to kill

A prologue mob of gulls descend
skirting Dublin bay,
As off I head along my way
to take a Summers day.

A Raynard at Clontarf stalks
a quiet, fearful road.
I see him cautious, pensive, bold
to run, an' low behold -
A damsiled Kittiwake asleep,
shocked to hue and cry
Is rushed to see to morning die
as I amble by.

By noon my ghoulish friend appears
resplendent in her blue;
Her deathly, patient job to do
atop her crane stepped view.

I stealthly watch agape, in awe
as if I never seen
A muted ballet, clean and keen
a creature so supreme.

A sky of westerly red alarms
a changing guard for all;
Starlings come to rise and fall
and to Venus call.
Beneath her bashful, winking gaze
homeward bound I stride,
Taking pleasure, fun and pride
in all I felt and eyed.