Dunfanaghy

I’ve waited a lifetime to reach Donegal,

With its mountains encircled by seas:

To see roads tightly-wound, around peat-enriched ground,

Every gorse bush a chorus of bees.

To drink in broad bays topped with high tide-flecked dunes,

All bedecked with pastel-hued stones:

To see broad-sweeping beach stretching far out of reach

Save for deep-walled, hewn hill-sheltered homes.

 

© Tom Tide 2017

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