Return To Slievenamon Poem by Hazel Durham
Return To Slievenamon
In my Tipperary abode, a long, long time ago,
At the foothills of the mountain, that's called Slievenamon,
Working every day, mucking out, grooming, riding out horses, my way,
My greatest passion, on this hungry earth,
Only nineteen, fearful of this scary life, that's a cert,
I immersed myself, into this amazing landscape.
No conflict, just a retreat from my city life,
Anner House, embraced my naive soul, daring me to be bold,
Life became a symphony, an extraordinary gift, it allowed me into its fold,
Joy oozed from my pores, with the greatest of ease,
Peace and harmony, shook hands with such glee,
Loving me, began to be possible, sinking deep into my bones,
Fun and sun shone upon my fresh rosy glow, it was a time to sow.
Alcohol, destructive elements was the harsh blow,
Flowing turbulenty, through my veins,
I clutched love desperately, till i felt, i was going insane,
Love was an impostor, no one would want to foster,
Coldness, callousness had a tight grip on my heart,
I was the understudy at the rehearsal, that was my part.
The boy who drove the flash silver audi, lived life at an incredible dash,
His game was disposable love, i suspose because he felt, he was so high up above,
My heart shattered into tiny pieces,
My thirst became bountiful, for the pain to cease,
Oh God, grant me peace,
Anner House drew me closer, to its warm comfortable bosom,
But it was only on lease.
Friends loved my unrestrained ways, lots of news and drama everyday,
A nightclub encounter, with the boy in question, ended my victimhood,
A slap on his smug face, put a stop to him being the boss,
Lessons learnt, that boy was no loss,
Through it all my love of Slievenamon never wavered,
So pure it was there to be savoured.
Just serenity, in abundance, as i diligently plan my return,
Return to Slievenamon, freedom of spirit and a wanderer's dream,
Tipperary the county that has all the cream,
Of outstanding beauty, beckoning my humble rebound,
To this shimmering green land,
I can almost hear the welcoming band.
Wow! A poem that describes the beauty of Slievenamon and the poetess bitter memories of falling in Love. Many lines can be sited. They are wise and skillfully placed in the poem. The flow is very good. The life their was for time being.... Anner House drew me closer, to its warm comfortable bosom, But it was only on lease. Nice work Hazel.
great.great imagery.....................good use of hyperbole and wonderefully described and composed :)
so sad, no matter u got a lot than u loosed. so u have composed this beautiful poem. i can give u the divine love to create more poems. keep it up my frnd. n rely on ur poetry only which will give you a celestial love. go ahead
Hazel, a really nice write. Mucking, grooming, riding out the horses. Makes me smile. Thank you for the illustration of the troublesome quality of love. You were young going through this, it's now my turn to experience the very same, including the horses. Nice way to start my day, with your words. Thank you. Rick Elpers
Bidding farewell to teens at a place rich of beauty is an amazing experience that has been nicely painted in the poem.
You have drawn a very realistic picture that sans no poetic requisite. We who live miles away from a landscape like Slievenamon feel very enthused about it and are simultaneously saddened about the woes of falling in love with a worthless youngster. After all your poems are a wonderful mine to be traced, I hope.
Oh, nice whispers of the one in love. The heart will keep on murmuring its language until it gets its longing and desire.Well done! ! ! ! !
the life's experience is written in a poetical form! very interesting to read!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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12/7/2025 12:24:05 AM # 1.0.0
an beautiful and poignant write