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 ...
It was wrapped in tissue paper, a simple golden ring.
It had belonged to my grand-aunt, it was a treasured thing.
She herself had bought it; that itself was extraordinary.
As was everything about that night and the man she was to marry.
Joseph Plunkett was condemned to die at dawn, that rebel with a cause.
The night before they two were wed in accordance with the Laws.
They never had a wedding feast; theirs was no bower of bliss.
Just a hurried ceremony sealed with a simple kiss.