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Today is the first sunny day we've had here in Coal Cracker Country. The temperature is a little cooler and so is the humidity.

The barometric pressure must have been sky high. It pressed against the skin and made me feel like a glass of water oversaturated with sugar. The afternoons were so hot even the air molecules weren't moving.

I am fond of gray days though. They remind me of Ireland where the sun rarely shines in the morning. Such a strange and magical place. It is no wonder that the mysts that rise with smoky tendrils from the valleys and hills give way to bouts of fantasy and wild imaginings.

Or are they just the products of the imagination ...

The last few days have reminded me of the day in July, 2005 when I drove south to Cork. The first day was sweltering as I tried in vain to find the hostel where I was to spend the next few nights. My plan was to visit Cobh Harbor.

Best laid plans? Right. Went astray. Never found the hostel after circling the business district of the City of Cork way too many times. Coming down a long narrow hill that inclined way too steeply in the rental car with the stick shift on the left hand side gave me great anxiety.

I got down the hill with both myself and the car in one piece and headed out of the city. The next morning, I awoke to rain. Steady, pelting rain that soaked me as I packed the car up and headed out to West Cork.

West Cork is a beautiful place. So lush, so sub-tropical with its huge flowering plants and palm trees that literally gush out onto the roadways. For those of you who aren't aware, Ireland exists in a Gulf Stream so it's growing season is rather extended for a place that sits so far north.

I would have liked to wander about West Cork - some strange things are said to happen there - but the rain persisted and I eventually headed back up the coast.

This is a poem written about my sojourn there. It will be included in the new volume of poetry I am finishing up called "IRISH ROADS". It is the poetic journal of the 21 days I spent booking around Ireland two summers ago.

Enjoy!

THE FAERIES IN WEST CORK
The rain was harsh that day
Pelting down at times
The wipers barely able
To keep up
Supply with demand...

When the faeries appeared beside the road
Somewhere in West Cork
There was no refusin' them
I will tell ye, no refusin' them at all...

A tall lithe dark haired lad
Rather handsome, ears subtley pointed
And a girl, with long rose colored hair
No, not really red, but the most wonderful,
Wonderful pink of nature you can imagine...
She appealed to me, with eyes large and mournful
So how could I not stop??
For no one can say no
To the faeries in West Cork

They take up little room really, faeries
Rather slim and efficient
They burn so brightly...
With an internal irredescence
Like beautiful candles...
The two lit up the backseat of the tiny Ford Fiesta
Human floodlamps on a dark rainy day...

The rain in West Cork got worse
The further we drove
Deeper and deeper
Into the West we go
Hi-ho...hi-ho

The faeries in the back seat
Were happy as sea clams
Camped out across my luggage
Drinking white wine and eatin' cheese
Who knows where they got it
Must have brought it...
A grande wine...lovely aroma
Drivin', I declined a glass
Consentin' instead to a piece of cheese
Soft yellow as Gouda
With a nice nutty flavor...

"When will ye be gettin' out?" I ask
Politely, I must add...
For the two, fed and watered
Have settled down for a nap
The boy, feet propped on the head rest
Of the front passenger seat
The girl, totally relaxed
Arms behind her pink haired head
Propped against my brand new bodhran

"Never!!" laughed the girl in her tinkling voice
Just great, thought I...
The boy faerie was sleepin'...
Or pretendin' to
So he didn't respond at all

Further we went
Into the West
Hi ho...hi ho...

What was I to do?
My hands on the wheel
Foot on the gas
Two West Cork Faeries
In the back seat
Of a rental car...

I wracked my brain
For an out
An avenue of escape
Hitchhiker Faeries, my eye
They were
Hijacker Faeries!!

Something clicked...
I knew what to do...
Nonchalently glancing
In the rear view
I saw my chance...
Both seemed asleep
Their magic temporarily lulled

Deftly, I turn the little Ford around
And quietly, without a sound
Head the other way...
For this I know
Of West Cork Faeries
They cannot leave
West Cork!!
At least
Not without
A Faerie Passport
And expliciet permission
From the Faerie Guarda

Rain flashin', night approachin'
I see the road sign up ahead...
"You are leavin' West Cork"
It says in big bold letters...
So I do...cross the boundary
Into the next county
And stop the car....

"Hello, hey...wake up!" say I
And both do, almost immediately
It seems...
Eyes wide in panic
For they know, perceptive sprites
They have crossed the line
Stepped over the limit...

"What have ye done!" cries the boy
His handsome features torn
"She's evil...evil!!" whimpers the lass
Tears wellin' in her dark black and luminous eyes

"What? What have I done?"
Innocent, I play innocent
For 'tis not wise
To antagonize
The Faeries...

But my words
Are unheard
For by then
Both he and she
Did flee...

Back across the county line
Leavin' an almost empty wine bottle
Cracker crumbs and little sticky pieces of cheese
All over the back seat...

Messy creatures, faeries...

Laughin', I realize
The rain has stopped
'Tis not yet dark
And my good fortune was returned -
As well as the West Cork Faeries

Luck on my side,
I signal a hasty retreat
From the lushness of the countryside
With roadmap in hand
Smilin' but burnin' daylight,
I swallow the last slug
Of wine in the bottle
And head north
To Ennis...

lORETTA

THE PIPES ARE CALLING

ISBN 142414826x

http://www.freewebs.com/lorettamurphy



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