Hungry Hill

 

Does it has an animals mouth?

This hill on Beara’s lovely south?

It sounds like a mountain full of greed,

as if in a perment need for feed.

And if a hiker ever dare,

to tread this grounds without a care,

he will be devoured and transformed in a gnome,

who will be – then – possessed by the stone.

 

I can’t believe, Hungry Hill likes to munch                              

on tenacious human lifes for lunch.

 

What gave this heap of stone that name?

Was it ignorance or just – it’s fame?

 

It sounds as if gangs of robbers lived here.

Or tenants vegetated in a permanent fear.

Or did people once died of starvation

in the times of the great migration?

When the potato blight took over the crop –

a disaster no one knew how to stop!

 

Or was it an english mans translation fault,

who eradicated all names, the Irish called?

The English gave – without any sense and brain,

everything and everybody a new name.

 

Despite all my gloomy consideration,

I feel quite an uplifting elation:

I intend to walk that hill,

might get my own impressions and my fill!

Hungry Hill in the distance 

Might find a dragon lair with treasures,

will help myself to gold and jewelry beyond all measures,

will have provisions of food and drink!

And in the evening I might sink,

after a long and exhausting day

of this demanding outdoor stay,

knackered but happy in my chair,

and might think different about that mountain fair.

 

©Sabine van de Sand, 2016-04-07