Ó Iarthar Chorcaí (West Of Cork)

To the west of Cork

Lies a treasure trove.
A wondrous land,
A collection of natures gold.
Whispering trees stand tall.

Along shimmering streams,

Telling stories of days gone…

Mountains that darken the north.
Humming winds from the coast.
Grass as green,
The like you have never seen.
Once bastion for those subject
To tyranny, amidst harsh times. a y barren.
A solace,
Now gleaned by our watching eyes,

Treasured in many memories.

© munster 2019
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no comments or critique sought.
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