Island People January 2007
High upon the side of the globe
We cling tenaciously
The North Atlantic has sent its fingers
To probe our innards
Leaving great serrations
But failing to dislodge us
Over time we have hunted and gathered
Gathered and hunted
Building stone walls on other occasions
Before we hid them in our soft underbelly of bog
All attempts to move us have failed
Plague famine emigration tried
Found wanting
Our neighbours transported us for good measure
We did not go quietly
We saw them off
Those who remained limpid like
To barren soil to mountain side
Grew in strength from deprivation
Experienced spiritual renewal
Asserted freedom
At the time of writing
We are poor again
Lost in the sloshing miry swamp of wealth
We want for storm and sea
To wash over us cleanse us
Reduce us to humanity again
For now we are gods of our own making
Leaving the land behind
Climbing to the realms of virtual reality
Heady with success
But for all that
We are an island people
Our boats upturned at present
Want new tarring
And a clean clear sea
