September – sunset hour – stillness – repose!
Serene and sweet the day drew to its close,
Turning from toil, I lifted up my eyes
And gazed away towards the western skies –

A dappled dome, tranquil and high and vast,
With myriads of cloudlets overcast,
Then the thought struck me that a sky so rare
Should be fit canvas for a sunset fair.

The sun with his inimitable brush
Began to paint, the sky began to blush
Slowly at first his brush swept far and nigh,
And slowly bright hues swept across the sky.

Quickly bewildering glories were unrolled,
Till all the heaven blazed with dazzling gold,
Silver, and amethyst.  I could but gaze
Upon the miracle with deep amaze.

Though many sunsets since that time have been,
One so magnificent has not been seen.
Hung high in heaven’s picture gallery,
‘Twas shown to all. How many chanced to see?

–

MICHAEL MULLIN

‘THE BARD OF FOREMASS’
FOREMASS LOWER, SIXMILECROSS, CO. TYRONE