by Jane Blanchard

Five centuries after Christ’s ascension
This Irish monk left home for Wales,
But pirates had their own intention
According to some ancient tales.

As Govan neared his destination,
A fissure opened in a cliff,
And there he hid for preservation,
Not yet stone dead but still and stiff.

The danger past, he felt so grateful
That he remained in such a place,
Then showed himself so far from hateful
That he fulfilled a life of grace.

This hermit over time was sainted,
His reputation never tainted.