A Song for the Golden Hare.
Come, dream
of Rathlin’s golden hare,
Of moonlight
made, and seaweed air,
Stitched by
soundless grace and guile,
Fashioned
only on that Isle.
Dream of
Rathlin’s golden hare, feet
Soft as
clover; from his lair, he
Scans
horizons with an eye
Blue as
tumbled skeins of sky.
Pelt of
moon-gold wraps him round;
At dawn he
sears the salt-specked ground,
Leaping,
sweeping past the lake,
Scatt’ring moonbeams in his wake.
You think,
quite delicate he seems,
Yet he is
not the stuff of dreams –
Wiry, wild,
strong-legged is he,
Scorns the
gale from Rathlin’s sea.
How
salt-air-sifted is his home:
He flattens,
safe in lairs dry-blown;
Sphagnum
moss, with blue speedwell,
Purple
orchids, asphodel,
Garlic,
iris, daffodil,
Vetch and
cranesbill ever fill
His eye, as
blue as bottle glass,
While
white-tailed eagles pause, then pass.
Oh, how we
long to pit our hearts
Against his
cunning, and outsmart
This
moon-birthed creature, harvest gold,
And course
him through the Rathlin cold!
And though
he’d run as if he’s prey,
There’d be
no catching - not that day –
Spellbound, we’d
refuse to take
A hare with
moonbeams in his wake.
We dream of
Rathlin’s golden hare,
Of moonlight
made, and seaweed air;
Stitched by
soundless grace and guile,
Fashioned
only on that Isle.
4 comments:
I love the pace and beautiful imagery of this poem. It evokes all the senses. Lovely verse.
Thankyou so much 😍
(I am delighted with the music Andy has written for this. It might even go on JP's next CD with a good singer 🙂🙂🙂 I m dreaming of QR codes in the book when I finally finish it !! )
Love this, I have to go to Rathlin Island
Delighted about that! 😍
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