It is a safe place of pretence in the paddock,

Gelded and tamed as if butter would not melt.

Quietly penned, remaining within the fence

Confined, contained and content to graze.


I see you beneath the lush green paddocks,

The shamrocks, leprechauns and guinness.

Hidden in disguise to appease the unseen force

 Of hatred and punishment that still puts the boot in.


A systematic abuse, century upon century

As life-long pay back for your place in history

As a land of poetry, art and song that raised

The True Cross high up on the western edge.


Unpolluted by world umpires and their usury

You naturally provided a way for the cave dwelling

Intimate to be one with Creator and wake up

A world of shadows into the light of a new day.


Desert dwellers on the far eastern edge rejecting

Manmade Babels found the same path as you

As if an underground root joined your lands

With an antidote and in the margins, East met West.


I see you beneath the appearance of dormancy,

A dangerous silence harbouring a volcanic identity

Of unbridled, untamed, undomesticated magnitude

To unsaddle the one rider that has no right on your back.


So I wait wild horse for you to rear up from the depths

And for justice to be served on the heavy sentence

You have endured, because when you finally break the reins

And spit the bit, it will mark the terminal implosion of an unholy empire.