Molly's take-away is busy,
Selling chips, kebabs galore.
Evening warmth
Greets homebound trawlers,
Night time walkers
Dot the shore.
Shining beacons crowding main streets,
Children scarmble on blankets warm.
Teenage girls
Throw knowing glances,
Eager boys
In Levis - torn.
Guinness wafts from half filled bars,
Husbands hurry, shaved and sweet
Escorting wives
All neat and powdered,
In high heeled shoes
Those legs a treat.
Turf scented streets,
Hilly, narrow,
Squeeze cars abreast
Not built to fit.
Pathways thin, not fit for walking,
Filled with students, booted feet.
Waitress selling
Food and petrol,
We eat sandwiches,
Tea and Coke.
Summer sun on mountain camping,
Silhouetting fir and oak.
Balmy breeze from the Atlantic
Cooling foreheads, heat is close.
Pints of lager,
One of Guinness -
Reach the head,
Soothe the throat.
Viewed from car
Windows tight,
Silent movie all around.
Collage on an Irish hillside,
Many lives,
Together bound..
Great poem you have written here Joe reminds me a bit of John Betjeman's poetry it has beautiful rhythm and rhyme to it and it just floats along. great work
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Great atmosphere in this one. A warm, cptivating poem picture indeed. Kindest regards, Sandra