Come to me in a whisper. I’ll give
you the wheel. You can drive

through the night       fleeting,
with me at your side         listening

to warnings of gales in Rockall,
to the thundering rain and showers.

Your position’s uncertain. From village
to village I veer. The roadside’s a shiver,

a swish and sigh, a cat jumping free…
Oh come to me in the midnight.

I’ll be your rising, your swell into Shannon,
your spring tide and Irish Sea.