'The Flowers of Mayo' - a poem about the beauty of our county penned by a Cork man

Cork man Gavin Homan has been writing poetry since he was 15.

Last August he spent six very peaceful days wandering Achill, the Corraun Peninsula and the byways and boreens around such beautiful sights as Rockfleet Castle and Burrishoole Abbey.

What amazed him was just how beautiful and colourful Mayo is during the summer months.

Gavin, from Carrigaline, explained: "I never saw such an array of wild flowers and, as I walked from Newport to Mulranny, my surroundings coupled with the fine weather created an inner peace I hadn't felt for years.

"My travels through Mayo were like an oasis, a special safe haven where for one week I was able to forget all my troubles and even the current Covid-19 pandemic.

"It is now over three months later and I still find myself thinking about that trip.

"I spent a number of years in the Irish Naval Service when I was younger and am fairly familiar with the west coast, but I never realised until now just how lucky we are to have such amazingly beautiful places in this country, like Achill and Clew Bay."

As a result of his experience, Gavin penned the following poem:

The Flowers of Mayo

The flowers of Mayo, brilliant in the hazy blue, lazily hugging the black peaks of Achill.

The wild flowers of Mayo fill my tired heart with desire, set my numbed senses on fire, burning in flames of orange red irises.

Conacre in a patchwork of brown and white cows, waddle and clump to swinging tails, to humming bees and the soft whispers of sapphire "forget me nots."

The flowers of Mayo shine and sigh upon the shores of a tranquil Clew bay, Oh how I wish I could have stayed forever in that magnificent summer's day.

"Storksbill and bittersweets" wave across at Clare island, dance along the paths of Burrishoole Abbey as I dream of walking the golden sands of Mulranny.

Heavy shrouds of mist hang over sharp and rugged mountains, raindrops glisten upon thick mats of purple heather as ghost like clouds laden with the tears of the past, silently roll over the dark ridgeline.

I wander all day through a sublime brilliance, my mind painting the most beautiful oils, the most wonderful memories of the flowers of... Mayo.