There does live love, in distant plains,
it sings in whispers deeper than speech,
it’s shafts, like glass, abound the grass
and groping hills of Erin’s breasts.
There does live love, in distant plains
the crying has died, and the sandy skies
live with open arms at last,
at last the pining found its gem.
It sings in whispers deeper than speech,
and thanks the airy silence for
a violent move that gained the grape
that made drunken lovers grasp.
It sings, in whispers deeper than speech,
of a time before the earth,
when dust had sparkled like the stars
and gravity accepted all.
Sean Godley
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/erin-s-breasts/
