O'ROURKE'S TABLE August bank holiday weekend Sunlight coming through the hazels As we climb the steep path, Fresh bark on the irregular steps Up the slope of O'Rourke's table. "You'll get an indulgence for this," a woman says Stopping at the water gallon half-way up. Printed histories on the notice boards Are an excuse to delay and catch my breath. And hill people twice my age plough on. Sunlight hammers down on the anvil flat Hill-top where the O'Rourkes of Breifne, Held their banquets before that bother With Dervogilla, McMorrow, Cromwell. History. Their power broken. The domain endures. Lough Gill, the lake of brightness. Church Island, Beezie's Island, Cormorant rock. Black reefs In the dancing glimmer and perfect light On the Doons, Banagher, the Grianan of Calry Meaning a beautiful sunny spot. Place on a hill. "Surely to God you're not eating yet," says Fr. Patsy. As the barbecue smoke draws a line of appetites, An open-air hunger fee from turf-banks. Mothers and run-about children, old men in shorts White legs hidden half a century from the sun. "Give the 'genny a rev. The power is going up and down." Sure it'll add an extra beat." The organisers shout back and forth. Then amplified voices. Ballads. Set dances. The barbecue and the dancers are in full swing I should be writing, not sprawled on the heather But with music, company and wine from a back-pack, Only the skylarks dispute. And a guest at the high table Can make no argument with the Lord. -- Brian Leyden, contemporary poet, excerpt "Leitirm Guardian"