Rhythmic Poetry

Tara’s Lasting Memories

They whisper still on Tara’s Hill, the lasting memories
Of men and beasts, of rain and wind, of ages run to die
They whisper of the highest kings, resplendent in their dress
Brought-forth from waring clans upon the Isle of the Green
They whisper of the strains of men, in fellowship arrayed
They whisper of the streams of blood
That’s borne upon the mighty River Boyne unto the thirsty sea
They whisper of the sumptuous feasts, where mead and laughter flowed
They whisper of the druids dark, King-Makers in the ancient land
They whisper in their silent tears for all the Island’s children dear
Who’ve mourned and suffered in their sordid history
They whisper still, on Tara’s Hill, these lasting memories

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