A re-post, shared with Sunday Scribblings.

BERTRAGHBOY BAY

Where the ironstone wall gathers
fuchscia and salt; where the swifts
stitch blue air to the scrub-grass;
where herring gulls mob the heron;
where cormorants hang wings
on the wind to dry; where seals
rise gleaming on a flood tide;
where the rain drifts in a milk-haze;
where the sun is thin as a coin;
where the rainbow really ends.