At_Last

Dingle Strand G.F.E. McGuiness

Salty water slips away On lapping at the grassy wedge Where long lost pasts touch yesterday. Harbors fringe the mountain edge. Sheep trimmed walls of gathered stones, Winding, train the greened patch slope. Peppered splash of rock pile homes,

A spice of style of simple folk Whose cattle graze this land, Grace the Kerry Dingle Strand.

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