Knocknarea

The simple pleasure of climbing a hill.

As we pulled in to the car park the sun had come out,

There were car loads and coach loads of climbers about.

A kiosk sold crepes and cups of hot tea,

When me and five kids climbed up Knocknarea.

The weather was calm, bright and not breezy,

The path at the start made progress seem easy.

Two friendly horses looked over a gate,

Our fistfuls of grass they happily ate.

When the path petered out the going got tougher,

The terrain underfoot got steeper and rougher.

The children kept climbing, not tiring or moaning,

But back at the rear my muscles were groaning.

There's a cairn at the top, the tomb of Queen Maeve,

The youngsters climbed up it, I wasn't so brave.

I walked 'round the summit, absorbing the view,

A vista reserved just for us hardy few.

The small city of Sligo could be seen looking down,

With flat-topped Ben Bulben protecting the town.

I saw surfers at Strandhill, like specks in the spray,

And the life-saving lighthouse stood guard in the bay.

Lough Gill down below had a silvery sheen,

The mountains around were clothed in green,

I stood there in awe at what I could see,

When me and five kids climbed up Knocknarea.

.