‘Dusk on Lough Tay’
© Joe Canning 2017. All Rights Reserved.
‘Tis only when the setting sun;
above Lough Tay retires till dawn
and casts its waning rays upon her waters;
that man can see with naked eye
the magic of a dark’ning sky,
conjuring a sight of bliss and wonder.
Nestling in the Wicklow hills
surrounded by a host of firs; a
silence kidnaps voice of bird and man.
And as the hillside slips to sleep
this mountain lake the rivers feed,
sustaining man and crop in fields below.
Our star it sinks below the cloud,
Earth’s golden light bulb says goodnight,
as heaven sleeps until the break of day.
Then in the breeze, and mizzle, rain,
the bracken drinks and so remains
and natures surplus slips into the Tay.
‘Tis much the same come early light,
‘cept it’s the other way about,
Swift swallows snatch the insect from the air.
On a Wicklow hill that decks the east
There’s only beauty, ne’er a beast,
a sight to see when heavy hearts needs lifting.
Photo: Lough Tay, Co Wicklow, Bryan Hanna Photography
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