8 November 2007

Poetry

Cahersherkin

Along the curlew lane befoxed and badgered
Where thorn bushes bend from the wind
And rain slants greyly under leaden skies
Beyond the hidden surface of the Lickeen Lake
Beyond the tumbledown farm of long ago
And the sharp bend where Paddy turned his Fiat
Up past the old quarry by whispering pines
Behind the rennovated school buildings
That were once alive with the laughter
Of labourers’ children and a bronze bell tolling.

You can see it from afar
Especially on black velvet nights when
Rather like boats riding a rolling sea
Electric beacons mark the scattered homesteads
From Corofin to Spanish Point.
Where a cradled violin wails plaintively
It’s there near that black horizon
Flickering like a distant buoy
Guiding you safely home -
If you could only remember the way…

6 comments:

  1. you should visit dale abbey one day i will make you a cuppa

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  2. Is that one of yours? It's beautiful. Superb.

    What's "Cahersherkin"?

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  3. Steve - Cahersherkin is an Irish place name - not quite sure what it means but it is the hamlet where my brother lives in Clare along a winding track where it is busy if you get more than one vehicle an hour...
    Yes it is one of my babies.

    Jaypar - If I travelled all that way to Dale Abbey I'd be wanting more than a cuppa young lady!

    ReplyDelete
  4. lovley i adore poetry

    ReplyDelete
  5. what ever do mean yorkshire pud ,,,tea not enough eh lol

    ReplyDelete
  6. Wow, that's magical.

    ReplyDelete

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