Damian Cranney Poems
|81.||Peace On Earth||4/1/2018|
|82.||We Hope You Stay But If You Go||9/13/2014|
|84.||An Excercise In Alliteration||3/17/2014|
|86.||Be True To You||12/10/2012|
|92.||A Pebbled Beach||3/24/2016|
|93.||A Place Without Views||7/29/2016|
|94.||Date With A Vampire||5/14/2014|
|95.||The Unlit Road||6/10/2013|
|98.||The Strength Within||1/21/2018|
|99.||Cast Off Your Shrouds||9/14/2015|
|100.||A Chance Encouter||8/2/2016|
|101.||Let The Earth Breath||5/5/2014|
|102.||Our Brothers Keeper||8/30/2013|
Comments about Damian Cranney
There is no peace to equal that, of fishing by a Lake,
Or a stream, or river broad, or pond within a wood,
If worries you would cast away, take a fishing break,
Nature, is the balm that Soothes, the restless soul for good.
I remember, one idyllic, sunny day in spring,
Rising early, well before, dawns tentative groping light,
Arriving at the lake to hear, a far off robin, sing,
A ripple from a rising fish, all added to the sight,
To angle for your supper, is reward enough, it's true,
But that day, was a record day, eleven trout all told,
It fed ...
In a cold bleak field, a soldier lay dying.
There were others around him, Who also were crying,
The medics had already tried to gain ground,
But the incessant chatter of maxims and mausers,
That chewed up the grass and the mud all around,
kept the bravest of brave, from risking his trouscrs,
And the dying from living, or their mothers from Sighing.