A Visitor

Once,
A visitor to Cornwall
Stirred an ancient Celtic wonder

Every opening was spun silk and gilded
As flames licked higher over cold granite

Down in Falmouth,
Where the moorland meets the sea,
There echoed the song of Éadaoin

Mixed with a thousand lovers’ sighs

And the lament of a visitor

Who still seeks the touch

 
Of the untouchable

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