Come the morning rain
That cool refreshing flow
That fills all the land
With the blessings you bestow.
The hungry flowers open up
To grasp your eternal brew
The Daffodil, The Buttercup
Lay awaiting just for you.
Come those sparkling drops
That are filled with Natures care
Giving life to the thirsty crops
To all their equal share.
The Hare hops the soaking grass
On meadows of emerald green
The streets a mirror of reflecting Glass
All fresh and washed pure clean.
Beauty knows no boundaries
As true as eyes can see
Like the glory of Heaven's foundries
That empties to the sea.
Your the sacred Mead of the Dagda
Replenishing and invigorating through
For the Gods have come to share with us
Their own sacred brew.
Alisdaire O'Caoimph
Mar 21, 2011
Mar 21, 2011 at 7:32 AM UTC
Come the morning rain
That cool refreshing flow
That fills all the land
With the blessings you bestow.
The hungry flowers open up
To grasp your eternal brew
The Daffodil, The Buttercup
Lay awaiting just for you.
Come those sparkling drops
That are filled with Natures care
Giving life to the thirsty crops
To all their equal share.
The Hare hops the soaking grass
On meadows of emerald green
The streets a mirror of reflecting Glass
All fresh and washed pure clean.
Beauty knows no boundaries
As true as eyes can see
Like the glory of Heaven's foundries
That empties to the sea.
Your the sacred Mead of the Dagda
Replenishing and invigorating through
For the Gods have come to share with us
Their own sacred brew.
Alisdaire O'Caoimph
Request permission to use this poem