John F. McCullagh Poems

Sweet Lesbia, hold me in your arms,
give me kisses without ceasing.
Your husband fights in Caesar's cause
and is no challenge in deceiving.
...

The sun was just about to set
when I happened on the scene:
A small and well kept garden
scented with Magnolia trees.
...

She was scarcely twenty one
on the day the Reaper came.
A writer of great promise;
Toru Dutt was her name.
...

When I was young and callow
and could run for twenty miles
I met a woman, Karen,
both sophisticate and kind.
...

The starters' pistol sounded once
and sneakered feet churn up the clay-
Fame and fortune they pursue
Four hundred meters ahead, gold, lay.
...

Once upon a time
in a nasty little war
Cromwell came to Ireland
like a blight upon our shore.
...

If we had never done the deed
and soiled the sheets together,
Lesbia we might have had
a love that lasts forever.
...

An old nun and two aged hippies
Down in Oak Ridge, Tennessee,
protesting 'gainst the A bomb
Breeched homeland security.
...

The bar was closed,
the dawn approached
like a grey and threatening sea.
He placed two glasses on the bar
...

Our house this night is full of life,
both kids up in their rooms.
We're safe and warm from the harrowing storm
with its lightening streaks and booms.
...