From a calender of horses, to an anthology on the passing of a writer, and a book to save Tara, the writings …
The grass grows green where the Sídhe dance Unseen by men in the fog The mushroom circle is kissed by the dew …
Sleeping, I, I did not see the dancing sun, That my grandfather claimed each Easter to see, That is what you miss …
The men who built them long are dead And they are standing still In ranks, files and circles And after our time …
Congal, the proud king, his wife a prince bore Alas, in giving to her son his life She lost hers, tragic the …
She of Rome, she of riches Indulged in all that she had to hand And she, until the day she died To …