Going Wild About Clare

Going wild about Clare Where hills lay barren, and bedrock’s stripped bare let me take you away to county Clare Huge cliffs climb sheer, dwarfing waves underneath atop the Burren my heart skips a beat With nothing to see, apart from the view all makes perfect sense, rain comes right on cue And whatever I feel, it’s in the air desolation yes, but without a care Where fields seed pebbles, and pastures reap stones through Clare’s vast rawness, I trek on my own A whitewashed lighthouse, beckons away scouring heavy seas, beneath clouds of grey Gulls are crying, as they happily do rising and falling, going nowhere too Still makes me wonder, where I’d rather be than here by Clare’s dolmens in reverie Later I take in, what nature left out my pipe, tobacco, and bottle of stout By David Kavanagh x10