Setting Out

Here's the old light in the old wind

and a May morning glistering dew;

and there's the old road with hills behind

where the blackthorn climbs to streaks of blue;

up Kilfennan, Maggie Murphy's lane,

over Lisneal to the mountain view

across the Foyle and distant plain;

Inishowen runs for a million miles

while the far light comes and goes again.

Over high fields and rickety stiles,

down the carric-a-briggi brae;

on the bridge at Mubuoy we'll rest a while

above the river , the river in May;

down the Ardlough, the Fincairn and Drumahoe,

through the ploughed-up fields of clay.

There's still Carmoney and Kilnappy to go

through Edenreagh, Tamnaherin, Tirbracken

with the old wander lust, the old glow

beyond the farthest hill and back again.

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Monkeys: There are no monkeys here. If you're looking for monkeys, go away. Well, actually there are monkeys, but they're of the hairless variety that writes poetry and such. If that's not what you're looking for move along.