Tir Na Nog
Little people on the hill,
Dancing 'neath the moonlight.
Bid me come with them, I will,
Run and run 'til out of sight.
Tir Na Nog, Tir Na Nog,
Under every moore and bog.
Land of the young,
Of whom we've often sung.
To a land of fairies old,
To a land of dance and song.
Where I will never 'er feel cold,
Nor the night will 'er feel long.
This is a lullaby my sister, Rebekah, and I wrote together.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
