Greacen012

A Memory of Bantry Bay

Eveninig stands still as if at the stiff command
Of ancient gods that straddle the ink-blue hills;
The sea lies smooth, her lace-white band of foam
Forgotten, storm-past, peace-breathing
From fall of sandy cliff to curved horizon.
Summer walks the hedgerows like a gipsy queen
Flaunting and flinging far her red ear-rings of fuchsia.
On such an evening life is time-free, no longer perilous,
And our coming sleep a sweet rehearsal for death.