When solstice comes to Ireland,
joy blooms in tidy splashes of geranium
decorating Gaelic door and window.
Delicate bursts of rhododendron
are flung about the wooded vales,
brilliant gorse amid wild turf flowers.
Nasturtium climbs the roadside walls,
vining on hallowed abbey ruins.
Clover and heather spread pungent
scents anew over ancient slopes.
In greening cloak, Celtic spring matures
into Erin summer by the silver Irish Sea.
first published in Storyteller Magazine
also published in Poetry Atlas
©2001 Bonnie Manion