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Around
the bay, at ease, the green cat sleeps,
His paws and tail coil in Kilbrannan Sound.
His heather'd head its guardian pasture keeps,
His pebble claws in playful tides are drown'd.
Within his belly's curve twelve houses lie
Held snug in wood-furr'd flank and muscl'd knoll
From eastern winds. A drowsy sun climbs high
Above the barren lairs of Catacol.
But once the clouds converge in purple threat
And fierce Atlantic gales scar ocean's face,
When scowling skies bring colour-leaching wet,
The supine form throws off its peaceful grace.
Within the mists of blindly driving rain
The wild cat glow'rs and spits in rage again
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