Beautiful Irish Poem

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Permalink Reply by Deragon Pierre on May 13, 2009 at 12:51pm

Dia dhuit a Lady Dianne,
Your comments are super precious to me and always appreciate,sometimes simple toughts
Teach us and myself lessons of life ,and to not always judge a content by its cover.....lol
I like simple things and simple people......as you do Lady Dianne...Thank God He put you on my path Lady Dianne.......SUNSHINE AND WARMTH FOR YOU ALWAYS..

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Permalink Reply by kubana on May 17, 2009 at 7:23pm

I was born & reared on Sandy Row, a loyal Orange Prod;
I stood for good King William, that noble man of God!
My motto - No Surrender! My flag - The Union Jack!
And every Twelfth, I proudly march to Finaghy, and back.

A loyal son of Ulster, a true blue, that was me,
Prepared to fight, prepared to die for faith & liberty.
As well as that, a Linfield man as long as I could mind,
And I had no time for Catholics, or any of that kind.

And then one night in Bangor I met wee Rosie Green.
The minute I laid eyes on her, I knew she was my queen;
And when I saw she fancied me, my mind was all a-buzz,
And I clean forgot to ask her what her religion was.

Next time we met I told her, "I'm a Proddie, staunch & true!"
And she said, "I'm a Catholic, and just as staunch as you".
The words were harsh & bitter, but suddenly like this:
Centuries of conflict and hatred were forgotten with a kiss.

I knew our love would bring us only trouble & distress.
But nothing in this world would make me love wee Rosie less.
I saved a bit of money, as quickly as I could,
And asked her if she'd marry me - and dear God, she said she would.

Then the troubles REALLY started! Her folks went ravin' mad,
And then, when mine heard the news, they were twice as bad.
My father said from that day on, he'd hang his head in shame;
And by a strange coincidence, HER father said the same!

My mother cried her eyes out & said I'd rue the day
That I let a Papish hussy steal my loyal heart away.
And Rosie's mother said, when she'd recovered from the blow,
That she'd rather have the divil than a man from Sandy Row!

We were married in a Papish church, the other side of town,
That's how Rosie wanted it and I couldn't let her down.
But the priest was very nice to me & made me feel at home -
I think he pitied both of us - our families didn't come.

The rooms we went to live in had nothin' but the walls,
It was far away from Sandy Row & further from the Falls.
But that's the way we wanted it, for both of us knew well
That back among the crowd our lives would be living hell.

But life out there for Rosie was so lonely, of this I so well knew,
And, of course, we also had our religious differences too:
At dinner time on Friday, when Rosie gave me fish,
I looked at it and then at her, and said, "Thon's not my dish."

I mind well what she said to me-- You've got to pay some price,
"And to eat no meat on Friday is a poor wee sacrifice
To make for Christ who died for us one Friday long ago,"
Anyway, I ate the fish-- and it wasn't bad, you know.

Then Sunday came and I lay on when she got up at eight.
But Rosie turned to me and said, "Get up or you'll be late.
You've got a church to go to and there's where you should be,
So up you get this minute - you'll be part o' the road with me."

We left the house together, but we parted down the line,
And she went off to her church and I went off to mine.
But all throughout the service, although we were apart,
I felt we prayed together, united heart to heart.

The weeks & months went quickly by and then there came the day
When Rosie upped & told me that a child was on the way.
We both went down on our knees that day and asked the Lord above
To give our child two special gifts alone-- tolerance & love.

We wrote and told our families--they never used to call -
And we thought the news might soften them, and so it did and all.
My mother, and then Rosie's, said they'd visit us in turn,
And we marvelled at the power of a wee child not yet born.

But we were quickly disillusioned when we found out why they came;
It wasn't to be friendly or to make up with us again.
Rosie's mother came to say the child must be R.C.
And mine said it would have to be a Protestant like me.

The rows before the wedding were surely meek & mild
Compared with all the rumpus that was raised about the child.
From both sides of the family, insults and threats were hurled -
Oh, what a way to welcome a wee angel to the world!

The child must be Catholic! The child must be a Prod!
But the last and loudest voice I heard was the mighty voice of God.
And to his awful wisdom I had to bow my head -
Just one hour after he was born, our poor wee child was dead.

That night I sat by Rosie's side and just before the dawn
I kissed her as she left me to join our angel son.
And my loyal heart was broken within thon lonely walls -
Where the hell's Shankhill! Where the hell's The Falls!

But that was many years ago, long years o' grief and pain
When I'd have given all I had to see Rosie's face again.
But my loneliness is waning now; I'll see her soon I know;
The doctor told me yesterday I haven't long to go.

And when I go up thonder they'll let me in, I hope,
But if they ask me who I'm for, King Billy or the Pope,
I'm goin' to take no chances - I'll tell them straight & fair,
I'm a Loyal Ulster Protestant - who loved a Papisher.

And one way or another, I know they'll let me through,
And Rosie will be waitin' there, and our little angel too.
Then the child will lead the two of us, the Papisher and the Prod,
Up the steps together - into the arms of Almighty God.

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Permalink Reply by Deragon Pierre on May 19, 2009 at 8:11pm

Dia dhuit a Kubana,
Awesome story of love and events.......and like the lesson said....
We may be beggards or kings......but He will love us just the same......
Thank you so much Kubana for sharing Irish Story....so grand the lesson

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Permalink Reply by Deragon Pierre on May 29, 2009 at 1:01pm

INTO THE TWILIGHT
Out-worn heart,in a time out-worn,
Come clear of the nets of wrong and right;
Laugh,heart,again in the grey twilight,
Sigh,heart,again in the dew of the morn.

Your mother Eire is always young,
Dew ever shinning and twilight grey;
Though hope fall from you and love decay,
Burning in fires of a slanderous tongue.

Come, heart,where hill is heaped upon hill:
For there the mystical brotherhood
Of sun and moon and hollow and wood
And river and stream work out their will;

And God stands winding His lonely horn,
And time and the world are ever in flight;
And love is less kind than the grey twilight,
And hope is less dear than the dew of morn.

William Butler Yeats.........1893...................................

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Permalink Reply by Deragon Pierre on May 30, 2009 at 11:51am

Dia dhuit a lady Dianne,
Thank you your comments greatly appreciate Lady Dianne,
Relations between nature and people is a must....everything is related...as you know
Like we are..............lol.......Dia dhuit ar Maidin...........

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Permalink Reply by Deragon Pierre on May 30, 2009 at 12:02pm

Dia dhuit a Lady Dianne,
One`s love sometimes not so obvious to the eye can be so grand like you`ve said Lady Dianne,
Sometimes messages in poems are not also so obvious,but are so mingle with the whole scenario
That we`ve got to stay inside the context to feel the light of awarness,and permit me to say that
When loving the degree of love should complete ever for any individual......naturaly opinions can differ......lol.......so appreciate what you wrote Lady Dianne, I am so honor and greatfull
Go Raibh Mile Maith Agat Mo Cara...............Awesome always you are........................Slan go foill!!

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Permalink Reply by Deragon Pierre on June 2, 2009 at 7:59pm

SOMEWHERE BETWEEN SPACE

We seek happyness and youth
Yet we have all beside,
Like laces of richness unused,
Each hours of passing days
We yearn to have plentyfull.

Without scarcity,just looking
Eager to notice simple things,
Simple mind comply
Opportunity to understand and enjoy,
Treasure of being what is and what`s not.

To discover and observe
Destiny of all creation,
Task of making future,is ours to compose,
Providing love and care
Ever lasting youth
Happyness will fall ,
To those who cherish and respect
Values without disown.

To Lady Dianne, Walter ,Pete,and all my friends........from me

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Permalink Reply by Deragon Pierre on June 3, 2009 at 12:39pm

Dia dhuit a lady Dianne,
This idea came to me from my Mohawk descendants as my grandfather used to say to me
And also my mother,......hey hey sonny...do not take everything for granted and enjoy while ya can because nothing`s last for ever and you will miss.....so take care and appreciate the wealth.......Thank you so much for your comments Lady Dianne,I always appreciate so much
all that you are also....have warmth and sun in your heart and soak up all its energy...because
Sun, water ,and air ,is life.....and creation...we are related
Sith agus Slainte bha Mo Cara.............

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Permalink Reply by Walter on June 6, 2009 at 2:03am

Pierre,

'Somewhere between Space' . . .

You honour me with your dedication. Your contribution to the Poetry Forum has become an inspiration to all that read. Your candid reflections of ‘all that is within’ are honesty in the raw. We all take sustenance from your words . . . ‘poetry from the inner soul!’

Walter . . .

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Permalink Reply by Deragon Pierre on June 6, 2009 at 11:07am

Dia dhuit a Walter,
Appreciate all of your comments Walter,you are a teacher for me and have great wisdom, being a good friend,your are also a super writer,that give me inspirations..
Thank you Walter...and wish you a great summer and music in the soul as you`ve always had......le Gach dea beannacht mo cara.........Slan go foill!!

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Permalink Reply by Frank Daub on June 11, 2009 at 6:25pm

Hello to all my poetical friends
Who keep this forum alive.
To Lisa and Walter and Lady Diane
and Pierre whose creative drive
Makes reading poems a life-tasting joy.

Below are lyrics from a grand song by Mary Black.
About food, life and love. It so reminds me of all
of you.

Frank in St. Louis


Well did you ever make colcannon,
Made with lovely pickled cream
With the greens & scallions mingled
Like a pitcher in a dream
Did you ever make a hole on top
To hold the meltin flake
Or the creamy flavoured butter
That our mothers used to make

Chorus

Oh you did, so you did
So did he and so did i
And the more I think about it
Sure the nearer Im to cry
Oh werent them the happy days
When troubles we knew not
And or mother made colcannon
In the little skillet pot

Well, did you ever take potatoe cake
And boxty to the school
Tucked underneath your oxter with
Your books, your slate and rule
And when teacher wasnt looking
Sure a great big bite youd take
Of the creamy flavoured soft and meltin
Sweet potatoe cake

Chorus

Well did you ever go a courtin boys
When the evenin sun went down
And the moon began a peepin
From behind the hill o down
And you wandered down the boreen
Where the clrachn was seen
And you whispered lovin praises to
Your own dear sweet ciln

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Permalink Reply by Deragon Pierre on June 12, 2009 at 1:33pm

Dia dhuit a Frank,
So greater touch you`d always had and still have my friend,
Your taste and style in phrasing of this song is amazing,
So glad to have news from you Frank,hope the health and yours are also in shape my friend
Got many cd`s of Mary Black....I think she is Ireland in the sense of the word
She always related me to what is and how is Ireland...She is one of my prefered singer Frank,
I am very happy that you share this with us and enjoy all of your participations,
You will always be ...the Master to me and will always admire you Frank...
Thank you so much......Go raibh mile maith agat Mo Chairde Frank....Bain sult asan la.......

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