I found my beloved home in Mayo, Rolling hills overlooking the ocean.
Seals and dolphins meet by the head, Scrutinised by puffs of sheep.
Boat laden piers in coastal parishes. Wrecks emerging from Davy Jones’ locker.
Mountainous cliffs, rushing rivers pouring into the sea’s waiting mouth.
Rocks emanate from the waves housing fish. Sandy beaches spread for miles.
Stunning turquoise coves curve, caves gaze at lively rock pools.
Old monasteries and manor ruins spread between farmlands and fields.
Taverns ring folk music as the sun sets. The catch of the day makes it to the fryer.