Peig.
Every time I go to Kerry
I seek out Peig’s old grave.
I lay a daisy or a dandelion
where she is laid.
…and I say …hello Peig.
Queen of the Lament…
Woman of Old Tales…and…
Legendary wails.
Life was a ragged stone and gale,
And rain and hunger…strain.
You.. wrapped in a woollen shawl
Your weathered face a twinkling world .
Wild on the Blasket Islands,
a tribe of children at your heel
and your husband out at sea,
You became that sort of genius…
who could not write or read.
350 ancient legends
You recited with great ease…
In lilting Kerry Irish..
Now lost to memory.
At first men recognised
your gifts… your verve.
But soon the mockers
sneered at you…they
failed to see your worth.
Dear Peig…
Today is International Womens’ Day
Hats off to you …
You will be resurrected yet;
Your voice will be heard.
Kristine Byrne. 8th March. 2020
PEIG SAYERS…1873 -1958