Reformation of a Messenger Boy

I stand here perched by lough and sliabh

A puny soul both ably blessed and slyly cursed

I’ll never be as grand as all the stony mountains great nor peaceful as the lovely lake that sits below in noble calm tranquility

But still I glory in my place, to view the beauty round about my growing wooden frame: the balded hills, the woolly trees and waters cool and sweet

And so I’m thankful to my Maker for the life I calmly, slowly live