Emerald Poem by Anthony Joseph Erangey

Will ye walk with me girl, to the bottom of the road?
Quickly, past the sadness of the mourning hills.
For if I go, without your talk, they’ll surely hum their moans
And I will be drenched with sweat and fever chills.

Tell me your tales of the struggle, and what you saw.
Back when the saints and scholars, ruled this shore.
Sing to me your sweet laments, your heart, held raw.
You know the names, recite them well, their lore.

Ah, wise colleen, make me laugh, and comfort me.
You’ve been to hell and back, with feast and the other.
Plucked from the mines of time, still Emerald green,
Will ye walk with me, your distant son, and lover?