Dear Maud - Is There More? Poem by Michael Pruchnicki

'My dear Maud of the highlands, '
he scribbled on the bright paper
by the light of the afternoon sun-
'I shall never forget our days and nights
skylarking and dancing at Monahan's.'

The sentinel paced off his rounds-
good enough for government work,
he thought. But what's the point?

'Dearest Maud from County Clare,
I do regret the time spent here,
so far from you and our wee one! '

The sergeant shouted to the file
standing on the parade ground-
rifles poised at the ready.

And then the rifles were raised
on command

And Francis Doherty from Galway
met his mortal end ---