Poems
A wee peat posy
Behind an old turf clamp
I spied my wee peat posy,
Among the mosses damp,
So small and sweet and rosy.
The mist came o’er the bog,
The mist and rain together;
Enveloped in the fog
Were moorland, ling and heather.
The rain-mist drifted by:
The smiling sun came after –
And all the earth and sky
Seemed on the verge of laughter.
A hundred sun-kist tears,
Like precious jewels sparkled
Upon a hundred spears
That this sweet flower encircled.
O, wondrous, winsome gem!
Why art thou here in hiding?
A fairy diadem
Art thou, for fairies biding?
Child of the peat and mist,
So fair and frail and rosy,
Lark-loved, bedewed, sun-kist,
Shine on, my wee peat posy!
Michael Mullin ‘The Bard of Foremass’
Foremass Lower, Sixmilecross, Co. Tyrone.