Listowel Poem by Matt Mooney

Two mighty pines, arms outstretched...,

So elegant in layers of needles evergreen,

Stand close together on an elevated lawn

Like the old guards of the 'Custom Gap'

Up the street where once there was a fee

For livestock at the fairs held in the Square;


There twin church spires meant in the past

One went to the service, the other to mass-

No one ever dared the other's door to pass.

A place that heard Parnell and saw as well

Fighting between brothers in the Civil War

And Black and Tans carousing in the bars.


Tonight I saw the eye of blue stained glass

Above there in the bell tower of St. John's,

Its blueness barely masked by falling night

And rain fell from its rim like a colour run,

In tears for all the passing years and people

Old enough but some too young we thought.


An idea came to me that the spires conspire

To turn the pages of our history year by year:

Dancing at the Fleadh with couples swinging,

Cheers and laughter after winning at the Races;

And the lofty pines that make us feel at home

Stand always there for us on the edge of town.