A little yuletide poem to get you in the mood for the festivities. And to say a big thank you to the 60,000+ people who stopped by to read There is no Cavalry.
If I don’t see you before, I’ll see you on the other side.
Have a very merry Christmas. And if Christmas isn’t your thing, have a very merry 25th of December.
Christmas in Connemara.
© David Milligan-Croft
Have you ever heard the Atlantic Ocean
Lapping upon the shores of Connemara?
With the Twelve Bens at your back
Under a vermillion sky that hangs
Beneath a stark, white daytime moon.
Seeing through the sea,
Onto an aquamarine bed speckled with rocks,
As the ocean galoshes in and out
Of the nooks and crannies
Of an obdurate landscape.
A flock of Little Terns skims the placid surface,
Heading home, over Doon Hill,
To the white sands of Ballinaleama bay.
Tiny islands sink, then resurface,
As a coruscating December sun
Slips deeper and deeper,