Burrens' Be/ Southern Ireland
The earths end, sky, sea;
pumice stone, windward lea
life grasped, grey alpine scree
Christian hinterland barren be.
Pillars, lentils, altar stones;
ground from Lug’s ancient bones.
Life minute, crevice formed foam
Erin’s core, St. Patrick’s home.
Where sweetness blooms, oh so rare;
petals leach such perfumed air
From seeming nothing fairest fair,
Ah, the Burren’s take me…there.
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