Uploaded March 2012 | Updated September 2026, 2 weeks ago

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'Mayo' is a county in the wild West of Ireland. It is not a condiment, even though it *is* very tasty. **Music details & Transcript below**


'Toy Winds' by Chequerboard - Beautiful Irish Instrumentals.
Used with Permission.
Catch the original video here:

youtube.com/watch?v=00B0c9ZQFSs
And while you're at it, why not subscribe to his channel:
youtube.com/user/chequerboardmusic

Track taken from the album 'Penny Black' © Chequerboard (2008)
Buy it here : chequerboard.bandcamp.com/track/toy-winds



Beware of Mayo

This is no place for a poet,
For a man of few chosen words.
The muses of Greece
Appear fast asleep.
And inspiration has flown away
With the birds

I grew up in a city, with character
In it's bricks and it's mortar.
So whereabouts, hereabouts, is
My inspiration to be found?
Where light paints pictures on the mountains
And beauty is so thick on the ground.

Where are my scenes of urban decay?
My vistas of hustle and bustle.
The traders with their pockets full up with tobacco,
The graffiti and poster covered walls.

I'm used to much less than this,
I'm comfortable with concrete and glass.
So I ask, "Eh, which view, now, would the the best view?"
And my friend, beaming, says "Just take your pick!"
So I've turned myself round a time or two now,
And l think this majesty is beginning to stick.

The mountains, all around, are hiding
Their peaks in the clouds,
While stands of trees form shrouds, hiding
Wee islands on the lake down below.
And an unsettling feeling of belonging,
Seems to follow me wherever I go.
As I struggle to fight with this notion, that I
Could live here and make a real go of it.
Despite my contention, my waning apprehension,
That this is no place for a poet.