I decided I’d give verses a try writing about a sunrise over the Connemara mountains one summer after bonfire night on June 23rd on Aran.
People gather in villages, light a bonfire, talk and sing until the fire dies with the arrival of daylight…

Orange dust and wanderlust,
Sometimes nighttime talks too much,
Red sky yawns and wakes her up,
Prepares her morning coffee cup,

The sun it rose from Connemara,
From the water she greets the hills,
People stunned by all her beauty,
They go walking in her unspoiled fields,

Mountain peaks when they first appeared,
Reaching over the stone walled fields,
They break the day on a late June morning,
And they’ll keep you safe until winter’s calling,

We’d been waiting on the colour to change,
Sat upon a stone among some waves,
We faced the sea in all its glory,
On this west coast summer morning,

For the night it is there’ll be music played,
There’ll be people gathered for the dawn of day,
Let a bonfire roar so we’ll say hello,
Let Gaéltacht hold you and enjoy its glow,

On nights like this with abundant time,
Summer is but a state of mind,
We sat and saw the sun come up,
We’d been sitting since the recent dusk,

Smoke was rising from the floor,
Dancing around the firepits roar,
In the night we roamed ’til the sky came orange,
Singing all the laughter our hearts could warrant,

And the wine tasted better on this night,
Dragonfly spread some light,
Carnival people all standing by,
God bless bonfire night,

The morning came from Connemara,
Delight came from the low coast road,
We’ve seen it all in many beauties,
And watched the wordsmith in tales he wrote.

The morning came from Connemara,
The purest beauty we ever saw,
Golden mornings and silver lights,
God bless summer, Aran and bonfire night.

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