Old Wine

by AE
The boys with their golden limbs
Shine out through the tawny glare.
They race, and after their heels
The shadows in purple flare.

They dance from the sand to the sea
And shatter its blue as they pass,
Till the tide is frothy with light
And glimmers with bubbles like glass.

And Michael, Rory and Teige
Are aglow with the Sun and the Wind;
For unto their rapturous youth
The ancient nurses are kind.

They drink the oldest of wine.
It sparkles like fire in their clay,
A Spirit breathed in the waters
Ere Time had buried a day.
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