The fields of Ireland whisper your name,
In every blade of grass, in every grain of soil,
Your words, like ancient roots, delve deep,
Into the heart of nature, where secrets sleep.
You gave voice to the silent land,
Through the furrows and the peat, you spoke,
Of toil and beauty, of lifeâs gentle hand,
In the simplest things, profound truths evoke.
The rivers carry your poetic strains,
Flowing through time, unbroken and pure,
Each verse a testament, each line sustains,
A legacy of thought, tender and sure.
In the quiet of the evening light,
When the world rests and shadows play,
Your spirit lingers, a guiding sight,
In the tapestry of words, forever to stay.