Ardan Mà³r

AS I was climbing Ardan Mà³r
From the shore of Sheelin lake,
I met the herons coming down
Before the water-s wake.

And they were talking in their flight
Of dreamy ways the herons go
When all the hills are withered up
Nor any waters flow.

Francis Ledwidge The copyright of the poems published here are belong to their poets. Internetpoem.com is a non-profit poetry portal. All information in here has been published only for educational and informational purposes.