colgan girls>sprites

The faerie  glen, from enchanted sleep,
stretched and yawned,then  came to,
blinked his eyes in sweet surprise
and regarded this strange  world anew

What miracle broke the magic  spell
what wonder,what wild beauty,
so pure in heart  could rend apart
the charm that  bewitchéd me?

Soft laughter trips  from a shady grove
the faerie glen’s  shot through with love
for  those who ‘d  set him free
no  sprites nor nymphs nor even elves,
but exuberant  girls a’ sporting themselves
as fit  and fine could be

such  delight, ah!, wistful  sight, to see.

Now  little birds and  faeries
come fluttering  from every tree
and a hare strides by,all proud disdain
his master restored to rule  again
a blackbird throats a jealous  refrain

the faerie king has back his crown
the stars are still in county Down
it’s agin  the law to wear a frown
stands  a guard of honour by his high decree
for them  Colgan girls, of Lisnacree.

10384818_10154913873560012_5045436597511828800_nfaerie glen


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For Willie John

Barney Sloan’s youngest boy
was bonny and blythe and true
with kindness born of a simple faith
in God, in me,in you.
Ninety-seven years I’m told
yet it always seemed to me
that Willie John stopped growing old
about twenty-two or three.

He used to come in from the big old world
like he’d been a day at the fair
he’d always treat the children
and ruffle and muss your hair
he’d crack his knuckles by the fireside
even a rabbit might appear
and the music of his laughter
chased away our childish fears.

But time slips by so swiftly
all things fall away
leaving only memories
of sad and happy days
and of other things,unspoken
things hard to call to mind
things we pass to our children
to defy the wrath of time.

No tilly lamp in Lisnacree
no sunset in Drummanmore
will bend it’s light about him
throw his shadow near the door
but it comforts us,consoles us
to know,away beyond the sun
that Willie John and Lily
and all the Sloans,are one.

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New York’s finest

sophie &laura

There’s something so right

so pearly white

too much delight

for Broadway’s daylight

poor saturday night

will give up the fight

overcome by the sight

of two girls taken flight

god damn holy fright,

Big Apple, they bite! 

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Rasta Man.

You and me,we gonna take a
Li'l trip down to Jamaica
Have oursel' a little breaka
Bacardi rum,peppered steaka
Give the thirst a good ol' slakea
Swim blue lagoons,dive in lakesa
Chew some weed,eat some cakea
Watch the day go all opaquea
Sometimes asleep,sometime awakea
These reggae boys aint no quakers
A ceilidhe band of rasta shakers
Will play all night for Finnegan's wakea
Partay right through without a breaka
It's heaven here an' no mistakea
Where the buccaneer,Francis Drakea
Big him up,like arab sheika
It sets our hearts all to achea
So soon these dreams we must forsakea
Hello New York,goodbye, goodbye Jamaica.

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Every palace,every jewel
Will shrink and pale away
Those flee that are cruel
Those innocent, shall stay.
Conversation hush and falter
Each glance become a gaze
All drawn to your altar
Held there, rapt, amazed.
Rich men and haughty princes
Will scowl and curse the day
They saw,but could not possess you
Could not spirit you away.
To some secret ivory tower
Where their dominion might hold sway
Steal strange solace from your power
Which few artists can portray
Perhaps a Mozart or Beethoven
Might create a symphony
And there,by grace, imprison
Your elusive quality.
How then,to possess you
To get to enter in?
Pass some secret test to
Attain you, without sin?.
She lies  there, between the pages
Where any fool can look,
Lies hidden there,through ages
A sleeping princess, in a book.
When once from lips so tender
You taste her first sweet kiss
You shall be in thrall forever
To imagination’s bliss.
ivory-tower (1) 

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No country for young men.

 Scourge. (To the tune, Brennan on the Moor)
Benjamin-Constant-The_Throne_Room_In_Byzantiumthrone room Byzantium
A fleeting hush informs you
As you enter at the door
That you’ve been sussed,religiously
At the speed of light,or more
And every mother’s son of them
Thinks he knows the score
And you could be getting what you came for
That,and a whole lot more.
Head her up for the border lads
The girls are mighty fine
Their easy laugh so natural
Good and genuine
And their spirits are untainted
By false piety of mind
So you can stick all that scripture
Up where the sun don’t shine.
And there was me just lookin’
For a girl,white ,black or brown
Always liked the redheads
With that wee inward frown
But a chill, too familiar
Tells me all I need to know
T’is no place for a questing heart
You may take your brogue and go.
Head her up for the border boys
Life’s too short to waste your time
To bother to allay the fears
That warp a planter’s mind
They will steal your grapes and crush them
Then sell you back the wine
It’s a cold,bitter climate
North of the borderline.
Even if a lad should pull
Across that great divide
What appears on the cover
Ain’t the story inside
Coco and Dior
Can no disguise provide
If one is not  living honestly
Admit it; One has died.
Head her up for the border lads
There’s a busload up from Clare
When god created women
He left the best ones there
And when we get to talkin’
Let’s all head on way out wesht
We’ll not stop till we hit Galway
And our Byzantine soul’s refreshed. Yo!
amelia earhart

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Manhattan High Line


 Walkin' yo' high line, Manhattan
 Big ideas in mind
 Likin' you Manhattan
 You harsh but you kind.
 Look, and admire me 
Treasure my stay
 I'm strollin',stridin',steppin'
 We be sharing these days.

 Manhattan,you gotta love me 
You needs what I got
 You gonna pay for the gettin'
 And, I got the lot.
 But I know you be fickle
 You betray me one day
 No kiddin' the Irish
 We who builded Broadway 

I be puttin' it out there ,Manhattan
No foolin' around 
There is gonna be sad streets
 When I shake off this town 
Up on your high line
 Love runs both ways
 Your sidewalks be callin' 

So come across, Manhattan
 I dare you,let me down 
Give it up, your treasure 
Call yourself a town? 
Stroll with me,hand in hand
 In love, down avenues 
Down by the Village 
Or by  Maya Angelou's.

 But hear me,Manhattan
 I be passin' through
 Tho' high on your high line 
And in love with you.
 Know walkin' this high line
 Is given only to few 
A gift,old Manhattan
 From this Sophie to you.

 Yeah,one day,Manhattan
 You gonna be blue
 Without me on your highline
 You swearin' you true
 I won't be there, to hear you
Forlorn, you will cry
Bitter yo' tears
Heavy yo' sigh.
 You be lonely, Manhattan,
 No more you and I
Oh so lonely,Manhattan,
No more you and I.
ny2 ny

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