Treasure Island

Barney Rooney

(belfast)

cranfields holy well


stand and scan this country scene
and think you'd frame the grass of green
the black edged hedge and jagged ends
of stunted trees and wetland sedge
but there is no beauty to this landscape
barely saved from bog and scrub
where Antrim’s farms and fields give way
to the black stoned shores of Lough Neagh
but find the road to Cranfield’s holy well
dander down past the chapel
to where votive tinsel, plastic knots
cotton strips and infant socks
hang unsettled by a breeze
that lifts the waters to bright ripples
and chafes the reeds to whisper dry
where solemn swans consumed with self
remind the spirits that dance and cry
of the faith that brought them here
to scan and frame this place of pilgrimage
takes more sense than the eye

Submitted: Sunday, November 24, 2013
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  • Noreen Carden (11/27/2013 10:39:00 AM)

    Hello Barney i love this poem there are quite a few holy wells in my area.The last seven lines of your poem are absolutely beautiful i felt i had taken a dander to stand at the holy well [lovely word dander] i give this a ten (Report) Reply

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