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Poem by Clinton Scollard Rahinane Wrapt in mist and washed with rain Is the hill of Rahinane; Compassed by the hosts of sleep Is its keep. Only shadows come and go; Only wraiths flit to and fro; And the bat, grotesque and blind, And the wind. Just a shard of shattered hope On a barren Kerry slope; Just a ruin in the rain, Rahinane! Clinton Scollard Clinton Scollard's other poems: 1191 Views |
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