Naoise’s People
He who she loved… of the black, black hair
Ruby lips and cheeks, of the palest skin…
Not of the Celts as described them days
What was the heart, that beat within?
The Celts, warlike, tall and fair
Swept across Europe, wide, as if a flood…
Left their mark on every land
As a wild raging torrent would…
The God, Nuada of the Silver Arm
Balor… the God of the Evil Eye
Exist in Ireland, Wales and the Ukraine…
Echos of a time gone by.
But Naoise… he is in Ireland alone known,
As if only there his people do exist…
Are they the Cruitin, or others who built Newgrange?
Whose spirals are their calling card through times thick mist?