Dingle Poem by Bernard Kennedy

From main roads through the pass
and there, beneath,
as if a mountain gate over
a valley, lake or bay
a golden road
to visit a past,
Peig, the Blaskets,
basket of another age
of literature,
all writers on the island,
an embryo,
of Ireland, vacated
to new lands.

Or round Slea head,
a bleak peak,
a romance with Ryan's
daughter.

A corner, fluid
of memory and romance,
Now we are too
sophisticated,
beyond the word
of linking
mountain and sea,
and honesty.
dingle beautiful town.