My flock of padding sheep I'm droving,
Driving down the bóithrín way;
Having drunken dip-day memories,
High on heat and crazing smells.
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You paint such a vivid picture with words that capture the scene so beautifully!
A generation of children in Kilchreest N.S. could identify with this poem and thereby see that poetry was not about old unhappy far off things and it fostered a sense of pride in our own place. Well done Matt.