The Dew Of Dear Tara

Reflections On The Spiritual Center

Moments of time, reflecting on the importance of Tara as the Spiritual Center of Ireland.

I was kissed by the dew of dear Tara
All those many long years ago.
When promise and light
Filled my days and my nights,
And the magick had found her abode.

I was blessed by the dew of dear Tara
And drank of her sacred delight,
Where the fox in the dark,
And the call of the lark,
Surrounded my soul with new light.

I was touched by the dew of dear Tara
And filled with the magick of old,
With the scent of the mist
And the rose blossom kiss
Of the faeries I in my heart hold.

I was filled by the dew of dear Tara
And the White Mare who grazed on her hills.
With the stories of old
Of the heroes so bold
Who on her green meadows were killed.

I'll come back to the dew of dear Tara
To restore the strong magick of old.
To make right the sad wrong
And to sing a new song
Of honor and courage, so bold.

Oh wait for me dew of dear Tara
For I quicken to you 'ere I die.
To be one with your love
And the brightness above
Oh wait for me, please do not cry.

The time is now nigh, my dear Tara
For the glory of all you have known,
Lives in these brave hearts
Who will bring a fresh start.
Bless these children your magick has grown.

Susan Isabella Sheehan-Repasky

On The Hill Of Tara

On The Hill Of Tara

On The Hill Of Tara