Legend has it that the Goddess Anu's breasts became the 'Paps of Shrone'
And that through the centuries to peaks they've grown
Till they stood proudly on the higher ground
And grew to be the tallest peaks around.
Through timeless ages they've stood side by side
And smaller peaks behind them seem to hide
And in Winter in their hats of white to gray
The windswept fields around them they survey.
I recall once when I was a young boy
I thought those mountains touched the very sky
An old man spoke to me and pointed west
Those peaks in Shrone are Goddess Anu's breasts.
He said call it myth or legend or call it what you may
But I once heard my old grandfather say
That near Rathmore the Goddess Anu lie
Her huge breasts pointing upwards towards the sky.
The old man's bones long withered to decay
And I grow old and show my years in gray
But Anu's breasts encased in het and stone
Still overlook the windswept fields of Shrone.
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