SAINT KEVIN
Long ago, in Glendalough,
Saint Kevin spent his days.
He lived alone in a house of stone,
his hands aloft in
praise.
One misted morning without a warning
a blackbird fluttered
down,
And in Kevin’s palm, steady and calm,
she laid an egg speckled
brown.
Gentle Kevin, so near to Heaven,
could not bear to loose the
egg,
So he did his best to become its nest
and move neither arm
nor leg.
When the egg did crack and a bird in black
emerged and took
to air,
Dear Kevin the saint, without a complaint,
returned to his
life of prayer.
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