The Paps Of Shrone

Beyond Rathmore a few miles into kerry Like sentinels they stand the Paps of Shrone For countless centuries they've been together And without each other they might seem alone. I once asked old man why they called these peaks 'Paps' His answer they look like woman's giant breasts In Winter they look barren and deserted But in Spring the skylarks on them build their nests. From Spring to late Fall mountain sheep live on them But they move inland when the chill winds blow And by all living things the Paps deserted Stand side by side in their white hats of snow. The sheep farmers who lay claim to these mountains Their fathers owned them in a bygone day A legacy their sons too will inherit And their daughters live in cities far away. It has been said that the Paps are male and female And that their children are the mountains all around Too coarse and rough to live by inland meadow They wear their bracken cloaks on higher ground. They've been together through the timeless ages And without each other they might seem alone Beyond Rathmore a few miles into Kerry Like sentinels they stand the Paps of Shrone.