Pierre Loti Looks To Sligo Bay

From my eyrie, my high up, Eyup eyrie,
at Ladies Brae in Skreen,
at my hermitage, Patrick to Tara,
I look down to Sligo Bay.
An evening of Brigids’ Day,
and I think of Aziyade,
and I think of Pierre Loti.

Sitting outside hisCafé House of Eyup,
looking down, the bird sellers
release your prayer wings to fly,
for a lira, a Turkish lira,
and feathers fly like angels,
sparrow small sing psalmody
over Eyup hill to air.

Looking down from Ladies Brae,
on Brigids’ Day
the lone Robin bears
my feathered prayer to Aziyade.
The horse shoe shaped, shimmering lights
over Sligo bay, beneath
a snow clad mantle Ben Bulbin.
Knocknarea my Topkapi,
on Brigids’ day I pray
to Aziyade.