In the quiet of the early morn,
When shadows dance and light is born,
I think of you, your gentle grace,
The love that time cannot erase.

The fields you walked, the songs you sung,
In every word, my heart is wrung,
For in your eyes, a world did bloom,
A sanctuary in the gloom.

Your hands that shaped the earth and clay,
Now rest in peace, come what may,
Yet in my soul, you still reside,
A beacon through life’s shifting tide.

So here I stand, your memory near,
In whispered winds, your voice I hear,
A mother’s love, forever true,
In Seamus’ lines, I find you anew.