Oisin Silverhare Poems

There is a place not far from here,
Where the skylark sings its song,
And a stream flows down from a nearby spring,
And murmurs as it wanders along.
...

As I sit and think of days gone by,
Of childhood, youth and adulthood,
I start to contemplate the why,
Of a lifetimes' bad and good.
...

One summer's eve as the sun did set,
In a lovely azure sky,
I passed a church remote and quiet,
So, I paused to rest thereby.
...