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 ...
Their Day At The Beach
It was cold for early June; a pause between two storms.
The surf -rough, the water-cold, but the reception would be warm.
Our Higgins boat made steady speed taking us to shore.
For some it was the Longest Day, for many others the last they saw.
The scene awaiting us was surreal; a muck up like the worst.
The Germans kept the corpsmen busy- if they didn't kill them first.
The leaden rain was constant as we struggled towards the shore.
Our platoon was decimated; many saw the end of war.