John F. McCullagh
John F. McCullagh Poems
Comments about John F. McCullagh
sacred Flame (A Tale Of The Neanderthals) L
The newcomers killed my woman,
Ransacked my cave and killed my child.
My brother and I had been out hunting,
The only reason we’re still alive.
We noticed first as we drew closer
The sacred fire had gone out.
We dropped our catch and sniffed the air-
When I smelled blood I grabbed my axe.
My spirit dropped, my heart was saddened
My woman and my child lay dead
The newcomers had speared the baby
A club caved in my woman’s head.
My brother took the child to bury
I built a rock cairn for my mate
I stroked her matted hair in ...
The Poppy Seller
The poppy seller stands near the Rotunda.
He vends his paper flowers as before.
He wears a small red poppy in Remembrance
of heroes fallen in our nation’s wars.
The people pass as if he’s’ non existent,
more interested to buy well watered beer.
The Veteran feels the sting of their indifference-