At twilight in Kinvara town
The Síog rise to play,
They perch upon the castle wall
And whistle out the bay.
It stirs the air like a blackbird’s sigh
Over the pier and on
Skirts the boats to Smuggler’s Cove
Beside the Canon’s Lawn
Where drowsy swans raise dreamy heads
To the lilt of that impish call
And stir for shore on gilded wings
Past the pier head wall.
The soft sweet hum of fairy breath
Calls cormorant, teal and coot,
And Lapwing, curlew, barnacle goose
Land on Dunguaire’s roof.
The Síogs gather their golden reins
And rising from their roost
They leap aboard their feathered friends
Into the sky they shoot.
And off across Dungory East
Round by Loughcurra South
Over the top of Cloonasee
Far from the harbour mouth.
To Carrownamadra next they fly
Down by the fields of Roo
Past Mountscribe, Townagh, Doorus Park
They part the dusk in two.
On they rush thro’ Rineen and Cloosh
Cregboy and Aughinish Bay
And turn again at Ceathrú an Droim
Behind the old causeway.
Where just beyond there lies a tower,
At Ceathrú an Bruim Fhéar,
A mighty place to catch a view
On a night fair-filled with stars.
’Tis here at last they drop to rest
The Síog and their band,
Twixt stars and moon and shining tides
Of Guaire’s ancient land.
So, if you hear wild sounds tonight
Take no account at all,
’Tis only the Burren birds at play
With the Síog of Guaire’s hall.
© Emer O’Donnell