Where eagles fly
and white hares run
the mice quiver
under fleeting winds

Rapaire juts out
under Stulabhal's bluff
where the path threads
up the mountain slope

Oft my feet
have waded the river
where it meanders
under Mullach's slopes

Crowned in cloud
the mountains rear
under northern sun
in Langadale


Nearing the end of the road
when the tarmac has ceased
the going gets tough
the ground only more rough
We think of you now
as sleep overtakes wakening
to not feel the pain
to not have to think
The road nears its end
but the light beyond it
grows brighter
in distant Tir nan Og
Where the nunnery stood
looking south down the narrows
past the abandoned isle
to the hamlet
At the end of another road
or maybe a new beginning
past the point of
our cognisance
Where the slipway lies
is the end of the road
into the sea
to Tir nan Og