Across Éire

Across Éire

Deirdre called to me;

in a sorrowful voice
that echoed across the sea

and bade me come.

Come and steal her away

from Conchobar and from Ulster,

for she longed for my touch,

the touch of her love.

Under dark grey clouds,

through streams of white sunlight,

I rode across the green

patchwork countryside.

I followed her voice

through heather and hedgerow.

For more than a fortnight

I searched in vain.

From Cork north through

Limerick and Athlone

to the very edge of Ulster,

until her cries faded

like the summer sun at midnight.

I fear that she has slipped away

out of my grasp

and I must tarry here in Éire

until she is reborn

and we can be as one

once again.

SMG