Muskerry Spring

At Lough Allua, along the waterfront One observes a turning of the tide From river stones, which stay blunt Are nature’s creatures, who needn’t hide A little toad searches for anew Commencing a journey made by few Its passage, grows so weary Following the gravel track On its way to Ballingeary High ditches cloak edges of the roads Serving to both sides, a useful shield Tender branches break against the cars And one peers through leaves, into a field To spot vibrant hydrangeas, unconcealed Yet across the rugged boundary One can hear the mud clumps crack With a sand-tinted Hereford bull Rolling around on his back Retiring into a pond Atop the Shehy Mountains The land in Spring, it is so fond When in the creases of these hills The emerging sun shines through the petals Of those lovely daffodils