Walter's Blog (6)

“I will thank you to remember Miss Scarlet while this piece may not be technically Irish in tonality and content, it is nevertheless penned from my Irish heart. Moreover, my propensity to write and talk is only outweighed by my capacity to drink. And, Frankly ‘My Dear’. . . I don’t give a d@!!. Slàinte!” This Picture That Is You . . . (A poem by Walter Magill © Copyright 2003) I pictured you in portrait On the canvas of my mind. I coloured you in passion Painting lips of ruby wine. Your… Continue

CLICK to listen . . . Wee Davy.mp3 ‘Wee Davy’ This is poignant piece written by the late James Young (a Belfast actor/comedian) who in the trying times of N.I.’s ongoing religious strife gave us pause to look at ourselves. Although the topic deals with religious intolerance it is not without its universal appeal for intolerance knows no boundaries… Continue

Oh! Hear My Prayer St. Patrick. (A poem by Walter Magill © Copyright 1992) Oh! Hear my prayer St. Patrick From this your Erin’s Isle Your people all are fighting Their hearts are filled with vile Their blood is on your green fields Your towns and cities fair Your children all are crying Their future’s in despair. Oh! Hear My Prayer St. Patrick To you I humbly plead Grant peace to all your people To each their God and creed To each bestow your blessing And give your shamrock green And touch the… Continue

Thirty-six years ago to the day - the hour was noon - one Spring day in Belfast. History recants the story. In all conflicts the innocent suffer. Bombs do not discriminate – they kill and maim with equal resolution regardless of class, creed, age, gender or colour. None are immune. To a lasting peace for all. ONE SPRING DAY IN BELFAST - Donegall Street, March 20, 1972 (A poem by Walter Magill © Copyright 2008) I was there that day When day was turned to night. When acrid plumes of the bomber… Continue

The Dancer with the White Face (An Ode to a friend) Copyright ©Walter Magill 2003 I saw a dancer in the night A body tanned a face of white. I watched her sway in rhythmic geste Her arms in motion – heaving breast. I touched the moment of her dance Her legs transfixed in sensual stance. I gathered in her smells and sounds Her body moves both full and round. And all too soon the dance did end But I had found a ‘dancing’ friend. Continue

Horseman Stop! (A poem by Walter Magill © Copyright 1973) This child of Ben Bulben Beneath Sligo lies In Drumcliff churchyard In common demise No statue, no altar No mark of the great Just a few chosen words On a gray, granite slate And a name to remember For eternity Of a man who was born For posterity This child of Ben Bulben Beneath Sligo lies. Continue