Another poem inspired by the saying, Blue are the hills that are far away. The form is a monotetra adapted to dactyls rather than iambic feet.

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Blue are the hills, vivid green is the light,
that spreads in the meadows, the sea out of sight,
and dark is the moon in the depths of the night,
a sea eagle’s flight, a sea eagle’s flight.

Grey are the cliffs where the puffins fly free,
The mountains of Mourne that run down to the sea,
Ling purple and pink, yellow gorse and the bee,
Such scent on the lea, such scent on the lea.

I remember with longing, the end of the day,
When tides lap the cliffs in the curve of the bay,
How blue are the hills that are far away,
Their memories stay, their memories stay.