She walks its halls within its walls
Red rose in ghostly hands
The rent to be paid when grant was made
Of these Fitzgerald lands.
Six pounds too a year was due
But in the afterlife it seems
Money is dead, but instead
Everything a promise means.
She walks its floors through walls and doors
A single rose around does bring
Word honoured to the crown as she looks down
From a window on a land that knows neither queen or king!
Do YOU want to stay at Ballyseedy Castle? She hasnt been seen in years, but you might meet the ghost… www.ballyseedecastle.com