2 CROSSING DOGGER BANKS:
WHICH REFLECTS OUR DANCE WITH THIS PART IN HISTORY
In the mists of time, where legends intertwine,
A tale of ancient Ireland, we seek to define,
In Stone Age’s hush, a mystery’s descent,
The origins of a people, their journey’s intent.
From the Mesolithic dawn, eons long past,
Hunter-gatherers roamed, from first to last,
In lands connected, Doggerland’s embrace,
They ventured forth to this verdant place.
From Britain’s shores or Europe’s embrace,
They crossed the threshold, a modest space,
Island-bound, as the sea levels rose,
Their isolation’s course, a new path chose.
The Neolithic’s dawn, a culture anew,
From the Stone Age roots, a change they’d pursue,
Island life shaped them, distinct and bold,
As legends and mysteries in history’s scroll.
In the crucible of time, where knowledge strives,
Archaeologists delve, where history thrives,
Debates and research, they tirelessly employ,
Unearth the past’s secrets, with purpose and joy.
Though Stone Age’s veil still shrouds the past,
In Ireland’s heart, its echoes will last,
With every discovery, a puzzle piece found,
In this ancient enigma, where truths are bound.
The poet’s quill, a silent plea,
To unravel the past, set knowledge free,
In the dance of history, we’re but a part,
A master’s poem, etched in time’s art.